


Interlunii

by JayofDiamonds



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Ballet Dancer Jinyoung, GOT7_TAROT_19, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Other idols in supporting cast, Wedding Preparations, figuring out feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-07-29 18:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20086729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayofDiamonds/pseuds/JayofDiamonds
Summary: Jaebeom and Jinyoung struggle to prepare for Jaebeom’s upcoming wedding. As their life together speeds towards its expiry date, they are forced to confront everything that has bound them together all these years.





	1. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the Tarot Fest I got the Moon Reversed! I wasn’t sure what to do with the smaller keywords so I went off the longer explanation from the Labyrinthos website (copied below)! As I was in the process of writing this, Eclipse/Spinning Top was released & I thought the album concept fit my fic so well I tried to structure each chapter around a song from the album, as well as chronologically by month. So there will be six chapters, and this first one was done with 1° in mind!
> 
> "Reversed Moon Meaning  
A Moon reversal in a reading can sometimes indicate that the darker and more negative aspects of the moon are present in your life. It could represent confusion and unhappiness - you want to make progress, but you are not sure what is the right thing to do. You must deal with your anxiety and fears by overcoming them, for they are like shadows in the dark. It is time to believe in yourself and move forward. 
> 
> The moon reversal meaning indicates that you are in an intuitive period or you have recently battled confusion, anxiety, and self-deception. It could be that you are misinterpreting how you have been feeling however you are starting to improve on this. 
> 
> Another reversed moon meaning is that the forces of the night that are bringing you confusion are starting to dissipate. You have started managing your fears and anxiety. Whatever negative energies you have been facing are slowly fading away. It presents a liberating experience as you discover the positive side of things."

The first person Jaebeom tells is Daehyun. 

A gallery exhibit has just opened featuring some of Daehyun’s paintings, and it’s the evening of the member’s preview party. The two of them are standing in front of one of Jaebeom’s favourite paintings of Daehyun’s. It’s dark, deep blues and blacks and greys. The texture of the oil paints is jagged, leaping out of the canvas like waves, but the painting itself is of a narrow space, like an alley-way or prison cell, lined with people. Mark has gone off to grab them some champagne from the bar, and Jinyoung is running late after practice.

Jaebeom isn’t sure what possesses him to say it, but he’s been sitting on it since last night without telling anyone, and it just spills out as he looks at the painting.

“I’m getting married.”

“Oh really?” Daehyun turns his head to raise a disbelieving eyebrow at Jaebeom. “Does Jinyoung know?”

“What does Jinyoung…” Jaebeom trails off with a sigh, eyes tracing the figures in the painting. “No, I didn’t get a chance to tell him.”

“Tell who what?” Mark asks, stepping up beside Daehyun with three champagne flutes balanced between his fingers.

“Jinyoung,” Daehyun says, extracting one of the glasses. “He’s getting married.”

“_Jinyoung’s_ getting married?” Mark squeaks, almost dropping Jaebeom’s glass as he passes it to him.

“No,” Jaebeom grumbles, snatching his champagne before it spills. “_I’m_ getting married.”

“Ah,” Mark says with a relieved grin, before his face falls suddenly as the words sink in properly. “You’re getting married? Since when?”

“Since last night.” Jaebeom shrugs. “Jinyoung was asleep when I got home, so I didn’t get a chance to tell him.”

Mark fixes Jaebeom with a tense look, eyebrows furrowed and eyes searching. “I thought you were just going out for dinner with Nayeon’s parents and yours?”

“That’s what I thought too,” Jaebeom says under his breath, bringing his champagne glass up to his mouth and moving his gaze back to the painting, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you gonna tell Jinyoung when he gets here?” Mark asks.

“I…” Jaebeom shrugs again. He feels sick with nerves at the thought of having to tell Jinyoung. Now that he’s told someone, the urgency is gone, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone else. The more people know, the realer it becomes. But it would hurt Jinyoung to leave him out, and Jaebeom can’t bear to let that happen. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And ruin the gallery opening?” Daehyun says, putting on an affronted tone. “This place is embarrassing enough for me without you two rowing in the middle of the room.”

Jaebeom frowns, finally tearing his eyes away from the huddled figures in the painting to turn back to Daehyun and Mark. “You think he’ll be upset?”

“Do I think he’ll be upset?” Daehyun scoffs like he’s about to say ‘duh’, before Mark puts a hand on his arm with a tense look. 

Neatly, Mark guides them into the centre of the room to allow others to get a look at the painting, and fixes Jaebeom with a look that brooks no argument. “I think you should wait until after to tell him. Privately,” he says firmly. With a deep inhale, he turns to smile at Daehyun, raising his glass. “Anyways. This is Daehyun’s big night. Congrats, Dae.”

“Thanks,” Daehyun says with a grimace, clinking his glass against Mark’s. “I’ve finally sold out.”

The tall glass doors to the outside open, bringing a bluster of snow and Jinyoung. The three of them watch him as he deposits his wet coat in the coat-check, stuffing his scarf down the sleeve and showing his invitation. Jaebeom can’t help but smile as Jinyoung tugs nervously on his blue pullover as he searches the room for them, fussing over the exact shape of his clothes. When he spots them, Jinyoung grins broadly and hurries over.

“We’re going ahead with _Sylphide_,” he says excitedly instead of greeting them.

“Wow!” Mark smiles back, just as Daehyun shakes his head.

“What is with you people and overshadowing my night with your monumentally bigger news?” Daehyun complains, but he’s already grinning.

Jinyoung smile dims to an apologetic one, ruffling his wet hair off his forehead. “Sorry, I was too excited. What other news though?”

There’s a weird pause as Mark and Daehyun obviously try very hard not to look at Jaebeom. 

“Me,” Mark blurts out. “My news. The museum has finally greenlit the exhibition design proposal I’ve been working on.”

“Are you serious?” Daehyun grumbles, putting a hand on his hip and narrowing his eyes at Mark.

“Yeah, I am actually. Just this morning. Sorry.” Mark shrugs, giving Jaebeom a significant look out of the corner of his eye. As if Jaebeom needs more convincing to put off telling Jinyoung the news. It’s making him so nervous he’d rather never tell him. Never get married. Now there’s an idea.

“Mark that’s amazing! …But Daehyun is right, this is his night. First gallery show featuring his paintings!” Jinyoung glances between the glasses in their hands with a little put-upon pout. “Why don’t I have a drink?”

With a beleaguered sigh, Jaebeom hands Jinyoung his champagne flute. Jinyoung takes it, but makes a childishly displeased face. “This has been sipped on, Jaebeom.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaebeom says, waving his hand and tugging Mark by the elbow towards the bar where fleets of champagne flutes are set up. “I’ll get you a new one.”

With a twinkle in his eye, Jinyoung gives Jaebeom a smug smile, and takes a sip of his newly acquired champagne despite his complaints, before turning to talk to Daehyun.

  
“Why do you think Jinyoung will be upset?” Jaebeom asks Mark as soon as they’re out of earshot of the other two.

“Why do you?”

“There’s no need for psychoanalysis,” Jaebeom grouses. “I… I don’t know how he’ll react, I’m just nervous about telling him.” An understatement, really. Worry churns Jaebeom’s stomach and constricts his heart. The worst part is he can’t quite put his finger on why. Jinyoung is his best friend, and hopefully will be his best man. In an ideal world, Jinyoung would be over the moon, and Jaebeom would be just as thrilled to tell him. Although, in an ideal world, Jaebeom probably wouldn’t be getting married to Nayeon in the first place.

“Well, you know how Jinyoung is with change,” Mark says quietly, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Break it to him slowly. Give him time to digest before you expect a happy reaction from him.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Are you… going to tell him the truth now?” Mark asks suddenly when they reach the bar. “About you and Nayeon?”

“No. Why would I tell him now? It’s one thing dating a girl just to please my father. It’s another thing _marrying _her just to please him,” Jaebeom scoffs, before softening his voice to a plea. “Mark, you’re the only person who knows. Please don’t… I know it’ll upset Jinyoung to think I’m being forced into this.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I… Nayeon and I get along fine,” Jaebeom says, trying to give Mark a reassuring smile. “I like her, she’s cool.”

“I’ve never heard a more passionate declaration of love,” Mark interrupts dryly.

“I’m not being forced to do anything,” Jaebeom continues firmly, shooting Mark an annoyed frown. “I’m doing what’s expected of me, yes. But I still… I still have a choice.”

Jaebeom looks down at his hands resting on the bartop, suddenly reluctant to meet Mark’s concerned gaze. Maybe this lie—of him and Nayeon being a happy couple, of him being _in love_ with her—is what makes Jaebeom so nervous to tell Jinyoung. 

All those years of Jaebeom’s father suggesting eligible young bachelorettes for him, and Jinyoung worrying and fussing about Jaebeom really being _happy_. Jaebeom couldn’t stand it. So he made himself happy. At least for Jinyoung. And to tell Jinyoung that this happy relationship with Nayeon has been a bit of a sham this whole time? Jaebeom wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of Jinyoung’s disappointment.

And it’s easy with Nayeon. Jaebeom doubts they’ll ever have the loving romantic relationship a husband and wife should share, but they care about each other. Nayeon is fun, lively, they’re compatible. Ever since Jinyoung introduced Jaebeom to Nayeon, one of his coworker’s friends, they had just clicked. Their parents were only too thrilled to discover they were acquainted. 

Most importantly, they’re on the same page. They both understand their marriage won’t be about love, but duty. Like Jaebeom, Nayeon has stressed that her friends don’t need to know all the details. As far as everyone else knows, Jaebeom and Nayeon are a handsome young couple very much in love. 

Excluding Mark, who Jaebeom spilled everything to months ago in a moment of weakness. Better him than Jinyoung, anyway.

“Just…” Mark cuts himself off with a sigh, picking up a couple champagne flutes and handing them to Jaebeom. “Just don’t do anything you’ll regret, okay, Jaebeom? Think things over. For everyone’s sake.”

“I have,” Jaebeom answers. He doesn’t linger on it long enough to examine whether it’s a lie or not.

“You’re afraid?” Mark asks, trying to get a few more words in before they reach Jinyoung and Daehyun. “Of telling Jinyoung?”

“No, I’m not afraid.” And that Jaebeom knows is a lie.

With Mark still radiating deep concern, they make their way back over to Daehyun and Jinyoung.

“So which one is _Sylphide _again?” Daehyun is asking.

Predictably, Jinyoung has already emptied Jaebeom’s glass, and waves it with a tsk. “No, no! No more talk of us. Only your paintings.”

“Please Jinyoung, I was joking. I’d love to talk about anything that isn’t this tacky,” Daehyun pauses to offer a tight-lipped smile to a bunch of people walking by, lowering his voice “...this tacky place.” 

Taking the new glass from Jaebeom, Jinyoung glances at the paintings hung on the white walls around them. Not all of them are Daehyun’s, but curated to fit a certain theme that his fall into. Like any of these small galleries, the building itself has a brutalistic streak to highlight the art, bare concrete floors, ceiling a tangle of exposed pipes and lighting.

“Well…” Jinyoung turns back to Daehyun with a placating smile, “_La Sylphide_ is the ballet with the fairies. In Scotland.”

“This was Hakyeon’s project, right? Queering the classics,” Mark asks.

“Yes, I’m- that’s why I was so excited, he’s thinking of me to play the Sylphide herself. Or himself, in this case. It’s an ideal ballet for it, really,” Jinyoung babbles on, eyes lit up, “because the Sylphide and James don’t have a lot of things like lifts in their _pas de deux_ which might be difficult for two men to pull off. But I think Hakyeon wants the Sylphide to still be _en pointe_, which will be challenging enough for a man.”

“You’ve done that before though, haven’t you?” Jaebeom asks, pushing aside all thought of Nayeon and the wedding, and telling Jinyoung. All in due time.

“Of course, but only for smaller comedic roles. It’ll be quite another animal to play a role like the Sylphide.” Jinyoung takes the second glass of champagne from Jaebeom and aims a little pout around at the three of them. “Okay, I feel bad talking about myself, no matter what you say Daehyun!”

“Fine,” Daehyun groans, lolling his head back dramatically. With a put-upon sigh, he knocks back the rest of his champagne. “I’m supposed to mingle anyway. Come save me in twenty minutes.”

With that, he takes Jinyoung’s empty glass along with his and drops them off at the bar, picking up a fresh drink for himself before swanning over to a group of people. From across the room, the three of them can’t help but share a laugh at the charming smile Daehyun plasters on as he inserts himself into the strangers’ conversation.

The rest of the evening passes in a swirl of mindless chatter and painting viewing. 

Although Jaebeom’s there mostly to support his friend, his father has always impressed upon him the importance of making connections. Most of the people in the gallery are small-time, not big enough for Jaebeom’s father’s company to donate any money to, but Jaebeom can always dream. 

As much as he knows he’s doing good in the corporate social responsibility team, finding worthy causes in arts and science to donate money to in the company’s name, the causes have to be well-known, reliable, stable. It’s for the tax breaks and the good PR, really. But the position is a compromise Jaebeom has always been proud of. Working for his father, just as he was meant to, but as close to the arts as he can manage.

So he mingles, pulling out his own most charming smile. He likes to think he’s a little better at it than Daehyun, due to practice alone. Mark and Jinyoung are left to sip champagne and people-watch on a bench, thoroughly uninterested in talking to strangers.

They reconvene on the sidewalk outside what must be hours later, huddling in their coats against the December chill. The snow banks along the edge of the sidewalk gleam blue and yellow in the light from the moon and weak streetlamps scattered around. 

“It’s fucking freezing,” Daehyun complains, shoulders up by his ears. “Yongguk’s coming to pick me up, you guys okay getting home?”

“Subway,” Jinyoung answers with a smile, knocking his shoulder into Jaebeom’s and staying there.

“I left my bike at the museum, so I’d better get going,” Mark says, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of the museum only a few blocks away. Clapping Daehyun on the back, Mark grins. “Congratulations again, man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daehyun scoffs, smiling and pushing him off. “You’re biking in this weather? What’s wrong with you?”

With a wave, Mark turns and starts off down the sidewalk towards the museum. The last look he shoots Jaebeom is grave, cheerful smile slipping off his face like he’s looking upon a man headed to the gallows. Or maybe Jaebeom is just being dramatic.

Daehyun sighs, looking back into the gallery through its massive glass windows as he pulls his coat tighter around him. “Do you think I’ve sold out?”

“No,” Jinyoung says diplomatically, shrugging. “You’re getting your art to a broader audience. Who better to benefit from the messages of your art than these…” he lowers his voice as a gaggle of people exit the gallery, “vapid Yorkville socialites. It’s only selling out if you change your art to suit their tastes.”

The honk of a car horn interrupts Jinyoung before he can say anything else, and the three of them turn to see Yongguk’s car by the curb. They walk Daehyun over, helping him scramble over the snow bank onto the road.

“Hey,” Jinyoung says, leaning in as Yongguk rolls the window down to greet them. “Couldn’t make it to the opening?”

“Oh no, I’m banned,” Yongguk replies with an easy smile. “I think he’s embarrassed of me.”

“Don’t worry, from the amount of complaining he did, it’s definitely this place he’s embarrassed of, not you,” Jinyoung laughs, and Jaebeom can’t help but grin too. Daehyun shoots them both a sour look as he gets into the car.

“Well, I’d better get our local up-and-coming artist home before he’s mobbed by fans wanting autographs,” Yongguk says, still grinning even as Daehyun smacks his arm. “You two sure you don’t want a ride?”

“We’re fine, thanks.” Jaebeom waves, stepping away from the car and tugging the belt of Jinyoung’s coat to make him follow.

They wave until Yongguk’s car is out of sight, and turn to head towards the subway. 

“So what happens in _Sylphide _again?” Jaebeom asks as they walk, jostling their shoulders together for warmth as he drops his hand away from Jinyoung’s back. “She dies right? And like… saves her boyfriend from dying when she’s a ghost?”

Jinyoung frowns in confusion, before smiling teasingly at Jaebeom, cheeks already rosy from the cold. “You’re probably thinking of _Giselle_. No, it’s about this fairy, the Sylphide, and she falls in love with a mortal man.”

As Jinyoung continues the story, Jaebeom watches his face carefully, finally feeling calm after an evening of talking and smiling politely and being _on_. The news he has to share with Jinyoung still pulls at Jaebeom’s heart painfully, but it’s easier to ignore when Jinyoung smiles dreamily and speaks low and private, to not disturb the nightlife of the city.

“The man is James, and he’s engaged to be married to Effie, a mortal woman. The first act is all about the preparations for their wedding, in his family’s house. A witch called Madge intrudes upon the celebrations, and though James wants to throw her out of the house, Effie convinces him to let her stay. She tells the fortunes of all the young ladies. When she gets to Effie, she reveals that Effie’s future lies not with James, but with Gurn, another man who loves her. That’s when James throws Madge out.”

“What about the Sylphide?” Jaebeom asks, taking advantage of the pause as they each beep their passes to get on the subway.

“She visits James while he’s sleeping. It’s clear she loves him, and she even wraps herself in Effie’s shawl, as if she could take her place. It’s after the engagement party that James wakes to see the Sylphide. She reveals to him that she loves him, has for a long time, and has been watching over him, protecting him. The first act ends when the Sylphide steals the ring James is meant to give to Effie. James runs off, following her into the forest.

“The second act is all in the forest, the domain of the witches and the fairies. The witch from earlier, Madge, wants to get revenge on James for his earlier impertinence. The Sylphide introduces James to the other Sylphs, and the world of the forest. As they dance, she always seems to be dancing away from him, and he can’t catch her.” As if a switch is flipped, Jinyoung looks up at Jaebeom and says matter-of-factly, “Which is why there’s no issues with lifts and such.”

“Anyway, James is desperate to find a way to make the Sylphide his, and Madge finds him then. She offers him a scarf or shawl, and tells him that he must wrap it around the Sylphide. It will make her wings fall off, making her mortal, and then they can be together. What Madge doesn’t tell him is that if the Sylphide’s wings fall off, she will die almost immediately. James and the Sylphide dance again, and he finally manages to catch her and wrap her in the scarf. Of course, just as Madge said, her wings fall off. She is devastated, weakens quickly, and then dies. The other Sylphs carry her away, and James collapses. Madge crows in victory over his body, and in the distance, Effie and Gurn’s marriage procession is going by. And that’s the end.”

Jaebeom nods solemnly, but he’s interrupted by the train pulling into the station before he can say anything. When they’re finally seated inside, shoulders leaning against each other, he nods again. “Cheery. It’s one of your favourites, though, right? Some of these things sound familiar. Like she’s in a big poofy skirt in the window, he’s kneeling before her in a kilt?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung says with a broad smile, like he’s happy Jaebeom remembers. The way he’s pressing excitedly against him makes Jaebeom realize that the glasses of champagne must be getting to Jinyoung. “It’s a very visually striking piece. It takes place in Scotland, so all the mortals are in tartan. I don’t know what ideas Hakyeon has been giving the costume department for ours, but. I know he’s a bit torn over the costuming for the Sylphs. He said he doesn’t want to put me in a big poofy skirt, but it will be more difficult to achieve that airy quality of the fairies if I’m just in tights.”

“I’m sure you could do it,” Jaebeom offers absently. “You think you’ve definitely got it then? The part?”

“Hakyeon says unless the company wants to pull me for a bigger production, yeah!” Jinyoung fiddles with his scarf shyly, lowering his voice again. “Honestly, I really want to do it, rather than another big production right after coming off _Nutcracker_.”

“Come on.” Jaebeom nudges Jinyoung with a grin. “You love doing _The Nutcracker_. You’ve only been in it a thousand times.”

“_Everyone_ loves doing _The Nutcracker_,” Jinyoung replies in a teasing tone, rolling his eyes playfully as he matches Jaebeom’s grin, nudging him back. “It would just be nice to be a part of something like this. Small scale, sort of. Small scale for us, anyway. It would just be the one dancer per role.”

“Has anyone else been cast?”

“Hakyeon’s already got the okay for Mina Myoui as Effie,” Jinyoung says. “She’s my Clara this year for _Nutcracker_.” 

“Oh, yeah, she was great. Nayeon’s friend?” Jaebeom leans his head back against the subway window, eyes on Jinyoung. 

He’s already seen Jinyoung’s _Nutcracker_ twice this season. As much as Jaebeom loves supporting Jinyoung and seeing him onstage, he’ll admit _The Nutcracker_ gets a bit old when you see it every year. But this year was quite refreshing. Jaebeom found himself entranced by the image of Jinyoung in his white tights and vibrant red jacket whirling his partner around a snowy forest, her long brown hair and pale nightgown billowing as they move. Not that Jaebeom’s biased or anything, but he rarely finds Jinyoung’s partner on the same level as Jinyoung himself, never quite as captivating. Every time Jaebeom sees Jinyoung dance his chest swells with pride and admiration. 

Jinyoung is nodding, lips tight as he fiddles with his scarf again. “That’s right, Nayeon’s friend. Hakyeon says he’s having trouble with James, because of height requirements. I’m hardly tall, but in pointe shoes… He wants us to look properly proportioned. There’s also the issue of the _corps_, the other Sylphs. Typically they all look very uniform but I think Hakyeon’s not gonna go for that.”

With a tired little sigh, Jinyoung turns to Jaebeom, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy.

“Anyway.” Jinyoung pauses to smile brightly at Jaebeom, eyes squeezing into his whiskers. “How was your day?” 

“Oh, you know,” Jaebeom shrugs, facing Jinyoung’s smile with a soft one of his own, “went to some meetings, signed some papers, answered some emails.”

“Nothing too exciting then,” Jinyoung mumbles, moving to lean his head on Jaebeom’s shoulder. “Mm, wake me up when we’re home.”

“If you think I’m carrying your heavy ass home from the subway station-”

“Heavy ass?” Jinyoung’s head whips up, fixing Jaebeom with an offended pout. “My ass is… just the right weight, thank you very much.”

“Just-” Jaebeom can’t help interrupting himself with a laugh at Jinyoung’s serious face, like he just said something terribly sensible. He reaches up to ruffle Jinyoung’s hair, pulling his head back down onto his shoulder. “Just rest until our stop.”

“Ugh, so rough,” Jinyoung complains sleepily, wiggling to find a comfortable position and wrapping his arms around Jaebeom’s at his side.

In the lull of conversation that follows, Jaebeom’s thoughts return. He tries to focus on the squeal and clatter of the train against the tracks, the low chatter of nearby clusters of people. Clear his head. It won’t help to make himself sick with anticipation, but Mark was right. Jaebeom is afraid. Not just of telling Jinyoung. It feels like his future is rushing towards him like a force of nature. A tornado spinning closer until it steals Jaebeom’s breath and tears him out this life. A colossal wave arcing above Jaebeom’s head, threatening to crash down and wash him away.

Perhaps it’s childish to want to cling to the known and the familiar. But Jaebeom feels so safe, secure with Jinyoung tucked up close to his side like this. The solid weight of him, the feeling of Jinyoung’s hair brushing his neck, the smell of him. Maybe it’s selfish, but Jaebeom values the comfort of having Jinyoung close more than anything.

Jinyoung’s not really asleep, but he groans and mumbles when they reach their stop, leaning on Jaebeom heavily. For a moment, Jaebeom is fooled, until he catches the mischievous curl of Jinyoung’s lips hidden in his scarf. They stumble home together from the station, pressed together like it’s much later and they’ve had much more to drink.

Jaebeom focuses on Jinyoung, and not falling over, and leads them home.

“I bought one of Daehyun’s paintings,” Jaebeom says when they get into their apartment, taking their shoes and coats off in the hall. 

“That one you like? The blue one?” Jinyoung snorts a laugh before saying in a haughty voice, “From his blue period.”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom replies with a grin, grabbing the mail and bending down to greet Nora with his free hand. Fussily, she pushes her head into his hand that holds the mail, opening her mouth to nibble a corner of an envelope with a rasping noise. 

Jinyoung heads straight to the kitchen, turning lights on as he goes, and comes out into the living room again with two bags of frozen mango slices. “Well it’s going to have to go in the spare room, because there’s nowhere for it in here.”

With a huff, Jinyoung sits down on the sofa and stretches his legs out, plonking a bag on each knee. After a moment he wrestles off his pullover, mussing up his hair in the process, before tossing it to the other end of the sofa. Jaebeom watches for a moment as tension practically seeps from Jinyoung’s body as he relaxes into the sofa, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. 

Suddenly full of nervous energy, Jaebeom doesn’t sit down, wandering around the living room as he shuffles through mail. Besides, it’s alright for Jinyoung, who’s been dancing and exercising all day. Jaebeom’s just been sitting at his desk or in meetings. And the news he has to share with Jinyoung makes his heart flutter unsteadily like a bird in a cage.

“We could take down that thing,” Jaebeom says waving the mail at an old piece of his in the living room. “It’s about the same size.”

It’s all smudged dark conté with some terracotta colour here and there, back when Jaebeom had enough time and passion to get his hands messy for art. It’s old, maybe from the first year of university, not that Jaebeom’s gotten any better since then. The picture is of a man curled in a window reading, with just enough smudging and minor changes to be able to claim it’s not of Jinyoung. In his first year of university Jaebeom had been desperately trying to find time for his art, and missing Jinyoung terribly. 

Cracking one eye open, Jinyoung frowns. “I happen to like that _thing_.”

Jaebeom sighs, shrugging as he drops the junk mail in the recycling. On autopilot, he moves into the kitchen to fill Nora’s food dish for dinner and refresh her water. Then he leans against the counter, trying to steady himself. From there Jaebeom can see into the living room and he watches Nora jump up on the sofa to nose curiously at the frozen mangos on Jinyoung’s knees, whiskers twitching. Absentmindedly, Jinyoung brings a hand up to pet her, closing his eyes again.

It hits Jaebeom then that his life with Jinyoung has an expiry date now. Standing in their kitchen watching Nora curl up with Jinyoung as he ices his knees after practice or a performance. Waking up to a smoothie in the fridge and a little note from Jinyoung on the white board telling Jaebeom to have a nice day. Sneaking photos and sketches of Jinyoung on the rare shared day off lounging around their apartment.

Jaebeom’s getting married, and that means he’ll be moving out. It doesn’t matter where they put Daehyun’s painting. Soon this won’t be Jaebeom’s home at all. 

Before the worry can begin to churn his stomach, Jaebeom tries to brush the thoughts aside. This is the right thing to do. It’s like Mark said, change is difficult. Jinyoung isn’t the only one who has trouble with it. No matter how much it hurts, Jaebeom knows getting married is the right thing to do, for everyone.

It’s with this conviction that he steps into the living room and makes his way over to sit on the footstool in front of Jinyoung. Blinking, Jinyoung lifts his head to fix Jaebeom with a mildly curious look.

“Jinyoung, I’m…” Jaebeom takes the plunge, blurting the rest out quickly, “I’m getting married.”

Like he’s frozen, Jinyoung’s expression doesn’t change, eyes wide. After a few moments, he blinks, and his eyes shake as if he wants to break eye contact, but can’t. 

“When?” Jinyoung asks in a small voice. He still hasn’t taken in a breath since Jaebeom told him. There’s a crunch as Jinyoung’s hands tighten to grip the frozen mangos resting on his legs.

“April.”

“_April_?” Jinyoung cries, aghast, pulling his legs off the footstool like he means to get up. 

Jaebeom nods reluctantly, finding that he’s the one desperate to break eye contact, gaze drifting away only to snap back to Jinyoung’s face guiltily.

“That’s hardly four months away!” Jinyoung continues, barely pausing. “Wedding dresses should be considered five to eight months in advance! Never mind everything else! Wouldn’t it be too rushed?”

Okay, not exactly what Jaebeom was expecting Jinyoung to focus on. “Uhh… I don’t know? It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal?”

Jinyoung’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “Getting married?!”

“No, I mean, I figure Nayeon and her mother know… you know, enough about these things? To know it won’t be rushed to have it in April.”

“Hold on… you proposed at dinner with your parents last night?”

“Uh, yeah, sort of.” Jaebeom shrugs. It had been more like Nayeon’s mother and his father proposing the idea to them, and a hurried discussion between the two of them in the hall to the bathrooms. But Jinyoung doesn’t need to know that.

“She didn’t feel pressured into it, did she? With the audience?”

“No, we discussed it before. This was just for our parents’ benefit.” Jaebeom leans back with a frown. Something about Jinyoung’s questioning is rubbing him the wrong way, making him feel cornered and defensive. “What’s with the third degree? You congratulated Mark for a design proposal, but I’m getting _married _and it’s twenty questions?”

“...Mark…?” Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrow. “He knew. You told Daehyun and Mark, that’s why they were talking about big news and being all weird?”

Finally back in familiar territory, Jaebeom reaches over to put a hand on Jinyoung’s knee. Or rather, on the bag of frozen mangos on his knee. “I wanted to tell you first Jinyoung, but we missed each other last night and this morning. I just had to tell someone. Daehyun got so bent out of shape about it though, I thought it would be best to leave it until we got home to tell you.”

“Okay.” Jinyoung nods, eyes on Jaebeom’s hand. With a little gasp, his gaze snaps back up to Jaebeom’s face. “You even went and bought her a ring without my help?”

Smiling softly, Jaebeom laughs. “Jinyoung, no offence, but you’ve never willingly worn a piece of jewellery in your life,” he says in a teasing tone. “I haven’t gotten her a ring yet, but if I’d take anyone, it would probably be Bambam, not you.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Jinyoung says with a sniff, letting his gaze drift away sullenly, pout still on his lips.

Jaebeom moves to take Jinyoung’s hand in his. The tips of their fingers are cold from leaving them on the thawing mangos on Jinyoung’s knee. 

“I’d like you to be my best man though,” he offers solemnly, shaking Jinyoung’s hand lightly to try to make him meet Jaebeom’s eye. 

Nodding, Jinyoung only tilts his head down further away from Jaebeom’s gaze, practically curled down around his knees now. “Yeah,” he replies thickly, before straightening up and evening out his tone into a detached sort of curious. “What kind of wedding are you thinking?”

“What kind…?” Jaebeom leans away in confusion, but doesn’t pull his hand back. “Uh, all I know is they want an outdoor wedding. Nayeon and her mother, I mean.”

“_Outdoor_? Jaebeom!” Jinyoung frowns at Jaebeom like he’s a misbehaving child. “April really is the worst month, think of the rain!”

“Isn’t rain on a wedding day supposed to be good luck?” Jaebeom replies, exasperated.

“People just say that to make the bride and groom feel better that their wedding is ruined!” Jinyoung bites back.

Jaebeom shakes his head, feeling annoyance creep up again. Are they really arguing over this? Why is Jinyoung doing this? “Is this really all you have to say right now Jinyoung?”

With a funny little frown, Jinyoung winces, before surging forward and hugging Jaebeom suddenly, hooking his chin over his shoulder and knocking their hands apart. For a moment, Jinyoung doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Jaebeom, hands linked like a knot at the top of Jaebeom’s spine. The bags of mangos slip to the floor as Jinyoung angles himself closer.

“Sorry,” Jinyoung says unsteadily, not pulling away. “Of course I’ll be your best man, Hyung, I’m honoured. I didn’t mean to nit-pick. Congratulations, I’m… Are you happy?”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom answers automatically, bringing his arms up around Jinyoung’s waist, pulling him closer. He doesn’t think about the wedding coming up, or Jinyoung’s reaction. Just about how he feels right now. Grounded, secure. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

Jinyoung tilts his head into Jaebeom’s neck, squeezing him again, gently this time. “Then I’m happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I am working on the second chapter!


	2. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another lunar cycle, another song. This chapter is January, and Eclipse is the second song on the album! Jaebeom tries to steady himself on this new path he’s put himself on. Despite Jinyoung’s apparent enthusiasm for the upcoming wedding, Jaebeom finds himself struggling against his own reservations. 
> 
> And 3 notes: 1) “CSR” stands for “corporate social responsibility” which is Jaebeom’s job at his father’s company! 2) in case you missed the tags, the Youngjae in this fic is Yoo Youngjae (previously of B.A.P). 3) lastly, some of you in the comments were worried despite the “happy ending” tag, just remember the last song on Spinning Top is Page, which doesn’t really lend itself to a sad ending right ;)

Jaebeom’s birthday falls on a Sunday, and he wakes late. His mother and step-father had taken him out to dinner the night before, and his father had taken him out for lunch on the Friday. Sunday is Jinyoung’s day off, but when Jaebeom shuffles blearily into the kitchen it’s empty, and the white-board on the fridge reads “Gone grocery shopping (fresh croissants in bread box)”. Even Nora sits contentedly on the back of the sofa in the living room, her back to Jaebeom, not bothering to greet him.

With a little huff, Jaebeom nabs a croissant and slumps down into his chair at the kitchen table. Sitting innocently in the middle of the table is a small flat box, wrapped neatly in green paper, and a white envelope with his name on it. Jaebeom just stares at his name in Jinyoung’s neat handwriting while he eats his croissant.

For years now, Jaebeom has been at peace with his birthday. When he was younger, he resented that he couldn’t have been born seven days earlier and been technically a whole year older. Which, looking back, was a very silly thing to think. As he got older though, Jaebeom came to appreciate his birthday being at the beginning of the year. Like a new year’s resolution, his birthday comes with the change of the calendar year, and the ostentatious opportunity to change himself comes twofold for Jaebeom. 

But this year, Jaebeom fears the change that’s coming. In the past, change had always meant growth, something he prides himself on. Betterment. This year, his birthday feels like a death sentence. Of course, it’s growth, getting married, moving in together with Nayeon. But it’s also moving out. Away from Jinyoung. The thought that Jinyoung and he are outgrowing each other makes Jaebeom feel lost and untethered, knocked out of orbit and floating listlessly through space.

And he feels like it isn’t true to say they’re outgrowing each other. Ever since they finished school, Jinyoung and Jaebeom have lived together. At first it was financially necessary, for Jinyoung at least, moving back from New York where he was studying and needing a flatmate. But it certainly isn’t anymore. People love to question and comment on why two grown men confine themselves by living together, but it isn’t confinement, not to Jaebeom. While they’ve outgrown any financial dependency on each other, in every other way Jaebeom feels like they are still growing intertwined. 

It’s unusual for them to still be living together, and Jaebeom knows it. When he was younger, he would help his mother in the garden. He remembers dividing perennials—the hosta and the pink-edged peonies—to help them grow. Leave too many in one spot and they can’t thrive. Separating them means the plants can be healthy, and flourish. It’s like that perhaps. Jaebeom and Jinyoung have grown well together, but to keep growing, they must go their own ways.

But maybe Jaebeom and Jinyoung aren’t perennials. More like clinging plants, ivy or grapevine, that have grown so wrapped up in each other they cannot be separated without doing lasting damage.

Jaebeom is startled out of his thoughts by the wail of a siren going by, and he stuffs the rest of his croissant into his mouth, feeling foolish. He’s being overdramatic again, letting his thoughts run wild, mixing his metaphors. Fear of change is normal, natural. Just like getting married, just like moving away from Jinyoung. Normal, natural, expected. 

Dusting crumbs off his hands, Jaebeom opens Jinyoung’s present. It’s a silver-toned tie clip with a little elegant cat detail coiling along it. Jaebeom can’t help the fond smile that comes across his face at the sight. He’s always teasing Jinyoung about falling back on cat-themed things when giving Jaebeom gifts, but hey. Jaebeom _does _love cats. The card follows a similar theme. On it, a cat sits next to a potted plant on its side, and the caption on the front reads “Thank goodness you’re home! The plant fainted!”

Inside, Jinyoung has neatly written, “Another year closer to being an old man in body as well as spirit! Happy Birthday Hyung ♥”

Leaning back in his chair, Jaebeom spends a moment staring at the card with a lazy smile, comforted. With a heavy sigh, he stands to sort himself out, heading to the bathroom. On the way he props the card up by the television in the living room, and tucks the tie clip into his tie and underwear drawer.

By the time Jaebeom gets out of the shower and comes into the living room in sweatpants and a towel over his head, Jinyoung is back from shopping, stretching on his yoga mat by the window to the balcony. Nora tangles herself between his legs, meowing smugly, and Jinyoung pushes her gently away from him with one foot as he lowers himself onto the floor.

“Jinyoung, are you doing anything later?” Jaebeom calls over, watching Jinyoung roll himself forward into the splits, shorts tightening around his thighs. After so many years, Jaebeom likes to think he’s immune to Jinyoung’s body as he stretches in tiny workout shorts, but his eyes still linger.

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung asks, twisting his torso with a wince to look at Jaebeom curiously. 

“I thought maybe we could go out? You know, it’s my birthday?” Jaebeom says, rubbing his hair a few more times with the towel. Jinyoung looks so aghast, his mouth dropping open, that Jaebeom snorts a laugh. “You can’t have forgotten already, unless Nora was the one who left me the card and tie pin. Or a very thoughtful burglar.”

“No, but… none of us have anything planned,” Jinyoung huffs, rolling himself out of the splits to sit back and look up at Jaebeom with wide eyes. “I thought… I’ve been so wrapped up checking out venues with Nayeon and Mina in my spare time. I thought you’d probably spend the day with Nayeon.”

“Oh,” Jaebeom shrugs and drops down heavily onto the armchair by Jinyoung’s mat, letting the towel on his head fall around his shoulders, “she’s at a friend’s birthday party today. One of her many, many friends. Jisoo, I think, actually. Her birthday was during the week.”

“I’m sorry hyung,” Jinyoung says with a concerned little frown, shifting to face Jaebeom, and reaching over to tug at the leg of Jaebeom’s sweatpants gently, as if to comfort him.

Comfort Jaebeom honestly doesn’t need. As with a lot of things lately, Jinyoung seems to be much more invested than Jaebeom is. The only part of it that really bothers him is the constant reminder that Nayeon has a lot more friends than Jaebeom does. Twelve whole bridesmaids, including her maid of honour Mina. It seems a bit excessive, especially because the wedding planner is so insistent on balance, and expects Jaebeom to find a matching number of groomsmen. With Jinyoung’s help, Jaebeom has barely scrounged up six so far. Maybe seven, if Wonpil agrees.

Jaebeom shrugs again, countering Jinyoung’s frown with an amused smile down at him on the floor. “It’s not a big deal. I’d rather spend it with you. Mark. Everyone. You know, the guys.”

“The guys… Don’t say such insufferably straight things, Jaebeom.” Jinyoung pulls back his hand with a disparaging look, shifting into another floor stretch, leaning over his extended leg. “You don’t make excuses on _her _birthday I hope?”

“I’ve never spent her birthday with her.”

“Oh, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung chides, not looking up from his knee.

“She’s fine with it, really! She’s the same as me, likes celebrating with her friends,” Jaebeom explains. That’s all the truth of course, but Jaebeom grins lazily and continues. “Besides, it’s a bit of a problematic date for me.”

“Why?” Jinyoung switches to his other leg without sparing Jaebeom a glance. “When is it?”

“September 22nd.”

Jinyoung looks up then, frown mellowing into one of confusion, and Jaebeom can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he mulls the information over.

“Look, do you wanna go out? We can invite Mark and Daehyun and everyone. After your stretching is finished, of course,” Jaebeom says, leaning over to absent-mindedly brushing some stray hair off Jinyoung’s forehead. He knows how much Jinyoung hates having his stretching routine disrupted. “We can all get an early dinner together.”

“Okay hyung.” Jinyoung stares up at Jaebeom with an indiscernible expression, eyes wide, before he smiles softly, tilting his head up to allow Jaebeom’s wandering fingers as they needlessly adjust his hair, curling the longer strands to tuck behind his ears. “That sounds nice.”

Something about Jinyoung’s open, upturned face pulls emotion out of Jaebeom. “You know I’m really grateful that you’re doing all this with Nayeon. I know you must be busy with rehearsals starting up-”

“It’s not a problem,” Jinyoung interrupts briskly, pulling away to resume his stretches. “I think Nayeon’s just feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything. The wedding planner can be quite… overbearing. I like to think Mina and I are like Nayeon’s reinforcements.”

“It really helps me too.” Jaebeom leans back in the chair, fiddling with his fingers, missing the feeling of Jinyoung’s hair already. “I don’t know anything about weddings, not like you or Nayeon. I felt like a lump at the first fitting.”

“I don’t think there was much any of us could do, the sales lady was _so _insistent that the wedding planner had everything all sorted out. With her pale lavender this and rosy pear that… Nayeon’s friend Jennie seemed quite opinionated, and the sales lady wouldn’t even listen to her!” Jinyoung grumbles, before shooting an apologetic look at Jaebeom. “But I’m sure it’ll be alright in the end hyung. It was just a prototype Nayeon tried on, it’ll probably look much better when the dress is finished, and she’ll love it then.”

Jaebeom smiles down at Jinyoung in amusement. “I must say, the looks you, Bambam, Jennie and who was the other one…? Jeongyeon. The looks you four were giving the sales lady by the end of it, I’m surprised she didn’t wither away from the sheer force of your disdain.”

“If only,” Jinyoung says with a snort. “You’d better get texting the others to see if they’re free. You know it takes Mark two hours to tear himself away from the computer on the weekends.”

“Right,” Jaebeom nods, plucking Nora up from her latest attempt at bothering Jinyoung and leaving in search of his phone.

They end up going out to a Thai place near Jaebeom and Jinyoung’s apartment, the lot of them sliding into a cozy little room at the back of the restaurant. It’s comfortable, being with friends, and for a while nobody brings up the wedding. 

Yongguk and Hyunwoo stand to greet Jaebeom with cheerful birthday wishes. Bambam and Youngjae bully Daehyun into ordering a round of beer for everyone. Jinyoung checks his little pocket notebook, where he keeps track of his calorie intake, and gracefully acquiesces to one can of beer. Mark shows up a little late, claiming bicycle problems, and is promptly ribbed by everyone for being glued to his computer games and losing track of time.

They’ve dug into their meal by the time Nayeon and the wedding comes up again.

“Why haven’t you told me before?” Jinyoung says randomly when there’s a lull in conversation, frowning down at his beer can. “About Nayeon’s birthday, I mean.”

Jaebeom turns to Jinyoung. “You’ve really been thinking about that all afternoon?” 

“It’s not her birthday too, is it?” Hyunwoo asks, eyebrows shooting up.

“No, no, uh,” Jaebeom pauses, suddenly worried about what the others will think of this weird coincidence, “Nayeon and Jinyoung have the same birthday.”

“You’re joking,” Yongguk says flatly, just as Mark barks out a laugh and says, “What, two Virgos weren’t enough?”

“That really is just _beyond_ having a type,” Youngjae says, shaking his head. “The exact same birthday.”

“Not _exact_,” Jaebeom argues, bristling. “Jinyoung’s older so he’s year of the dog. Nayeon’s year of the pig. That’s different.”

Youngjae snorts in amusement, leaning back. “It’s still weird.”

“You didn’t know?” Bambam asks Jinyoung around a mouthful of rice.

“No, he only told me earlier today because I was giving him a hard time about never spending Nayeon’s birthday with her,” Jinyoung answers with a shrug, holding his beer close to his chest. “He said it was a problematic day for him.”

“Oh of course.” Bambam nods like Jinyoung just said something obvious, and a series of weird looks sweep over the faces of the others, like they’re holding themselves back from commenting. Hyunwoo puts several pieces of beef into his mouth at once and Yongguk takes a very long sip of his beer.

“Speaking of Nayeon,” Mark pipes up suddenly, tone brisk, “how’s the groomsman search going? We were pretty outnumbered at the first fitting.”

Relief sweeps over Jaebeom. Something about the last topic had been beginning to rub him the wrong way.

“Well so far we’ve got me, Mark, Daehyun, Youngjae, Yongguk, Hyunwoo, and Bambam,” Jinyoung supplies automatically, listing off the names like they’re not all there sitting at the same table.

Bambam gives Jinyoung a disparaging look. “So, just all of us here.”

“Yes,” Jinyoung glances around sheepishly, “sorry, I guess I could have just said that. And Nayeon’s got twelve.”

“Did you ask Wonpil?” Jaebeom asks. Wonpil isn’t exactly Jaebeom’s friend, but he’s a close work friend of Jinyoung, a pianist who plays during practices, and they’re getting desperate.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Jinyoung says, frowning. “Wonpil won’t be able to. He’s in Korea all April visiting his family.”

“What about Hakyeon?” Jaebeom asks, really grasping at straws now.

“Hakyeon, my coworker Hakyeon, who you’ve met a handful of times and you’re scared of? Well, I guess I could ask, but I think his husband’s birthday is sometime in April, so it might be a _problematic _day for him.” Jinyoung sighs, giving Jaebeom a pitying sort of look. “Jaebeom, you might just have to tell Nayeon you can’t find enough people.”

“What if you narrow it down to six groomsmen, and we each accompany two bridesmaids?” Daehyun offers. “‘Course, you’d have to decide which of us gets the chop then, since there’s seven inculding Jinyoung.”

“That could work. Nayeon kept calling Jisoo her “maid of honour in waiting”, so it works even with Jinyoung and Mina, I think,” Mark says.

“Plus Nayeon is clearly trying to set Jinyoung and Jisoo up with each other,” Youngjae adds smugly.

“She is?” Jaebeom and Jinyoung say in unison. 

“Of course, you haven’t noticed?” Youngjae veritably chortles at their matching looks of confusion. “Weddings beget weddings.”

“Anyway,” Jinyoung says forcibly, shooting Youngjae a scornful look, “it’s not just about going up the aisle. When everyone’s standing up there, groomsmen on Jaebeom’s side, bridesmaids on Nayeon’s, that’s when the balance will look off. _That _is the problem.”

As the others continue to strategize, coming up with more and more ridiculous cover-ups for Jaebeom’s comparatively small amount of friends, Jaebeom tunes them out. He finds himself suddenly caught up in Youngjae’s words. Weddings beget weddings. The thought of Jinyoung getting married is so deeply foreign to Jaebeom, he can barely picture it. 

Of course Jinyoung would suit the scene well—princely looks, gentlemanly manners, that loving gaze that makes you feel safe and adored. Jinyoung is obviously husband material, and Jaebeom knows that. But to think of Jinyoung standing before an altar, that loving gaze shining on someone… on someone else. Jaebeom’s stomach roils in discomfort at the thought, so he quickly pushes it aside. 

It’s become clear that Jinyoung loves weddings. And he has the expertise. After the initial mixed reaction from him, Jinyoung has thrown himself headlong into his best man duties, with even more vigour than Jaebeom is performing his fiancé duties. Jinyoung has been spending more time with Nayeon than Jaebeom has lately, and if the situation were any different, Jaebeom might be worried, even jealous. But Jaebeom knows Nayeon, and he knows Jinyoung. As it stands, he only feels staggeringly grateful they get along as well as they do. 

Nayeon will soon be joining the ranks of Jaebeom’s mother and Jinyoung as the most important people in Jaebeom’s life. It’s something Jaebeom instinctively wants to resist, but he knows he cannot. Though he doesn’t love her, Jaebeom cares about Nayeon, and wouldn’t want her to endure an unhappy marriage with a cold husband. So he fights against this instinct, struggling to find the same enthusiasm for his upcoming wedding that Jinyoung seems to have.

Jaebeom almost wishes Jinyoung could sense something was wrong. If Jinyoung came to him with misgivings, Jaebeom knows he wouldn’t be able to go through with the wedding. Not without Jinyoung by his side, seeing him through. But Jinyoung seems so keen, Jaebeom can’t help but wonder if Jinyoung is glad to be rid of him, so he can move his own life forward. Perhaps weddings do beget weddings.

Of course Jinyoung’s hardly dated, certainly never had a steady partner. The nature of Jinyoung’s sexuality has always been a bit intangible to Jaebeom. He knows Jinyoung is into men, and women too, but with no evidence of Jinyoung’s attractions in action, it’s hard to think of Jinyoung as being into anyone at all. 

Jinyoung always claims to be too busy to date, but he’s rarely too busy to go out to dinner with Jaebeom, or spend a lazy day together when their days off coincide. Maybe with Jaebeom out of their apartment and out of the way, Jinyoung will finally be able to devote time to his love life.

When Jaebeom circles back to the image of Jinyoung at a wedding of his own, he finds himself recoiling from it once again. Why? Shouldn’t he want that for his dearest friend? What bubbles up instead feels like a selfish jealousy. Jinyoung marrying for love in this hypothetical future while Jaebeom cannot. Perhaps that’s it—Jaebeom wants that happy wedding for himself. Although he’s hardly been the type before to dream of weddings and happy endings, it’s undeniable that such things have been on his mind recently. 

But Jaebeom promised Nayeon. And he _does_ want Jinyoung to be happy, no matter what other feelings may cloud the picture. So he keeps these thoughts tucked safely away, fighting against the urge to spill these insecurities. For Nayeon’s sake, and Jinyoung’s.

The night wraps up quickly after Jaebeom’s mood drops. He’s not quite as good as Jinyoung at masking his feelings, but the others graciously make excuses of their own, saying they have work tomorrow, and want to get home early. 

On their way home, Jinyoung asks Jaebeom, “What’s wrong?”

Rather than reply at first, Jaebeom tucks Jinyoung under his arm roughly, pulling his bobble hat off to ruffle his hair like when they were younger. Jinyoung squawks and wiggles, generously not using his strength to fight Jaebeom off. They part with breathless grins a few steps later, and under the streetlamp, Jaebeom holds Jinyoung’s gaze until he doesn’t, looking down at the sidewalk with a sigh.

“I’m getting old,” Jaebeom tells him, and Jinyoung doesn’t ask again.

Near the end of January, Jaebeom attends a fundraising gala at the performing arts centre. Jinyoung first introduced him to Nayeon at the same event, years ago. Youngjae badgers Jaebeom to be brought along as his plus-one, claiming to want to properly meet Nayeon outside of the hectic first fitting they all attended at the end of December. That meeting was apparently only enough for Youngjae to pick up on Nayeon’s intentions regarding Jinyoung and her bridesmaid Jisoo, but not a proper introduction in his books. Jinyoung thinks it’s such a good idea he invites the other groomsmen. Only Yongguk accepts, with a shrug and a grin. 

The shining lobby of the performing arts centre is decorated with twinkling lights, probably left over from Christmas. It’s been a little over a decade since the building was finished, with gleaming curves of pale wood and polished panes of glass in every direction. On a plaque somewhere is a list of names that includes Jaebeom’s father, for significant donations to the building fund. And a couple storeys up are some paintings Jaebeom arranged to be donated to the centre. It’s a building Jaebeom is fond of, being so intrinsically connected to Jinyoung, and in smaller ways to Jaebeom himself.

Within ten minutes of arriving, Jaebeom loses Youngjae and Yongguk to the aperitifs. He’s trailing behind Nayeon and Mina as they roam the room when Jinyoung flags him down. They arrived separately, and Jinyoung is a welcome sight, done up neatly in his blue suit and artfully parted hair.

“Oh hyung!” Jinyoung waves. Smiling widely, he gestures to the man beside him. “This is Jackson, do you remember, I mentioned him? He’ll be playing James in _La Sylphide_! Jackson, this is Jaebeom, my friend I told you about!”

“I hear you’re getting married,” Jackson says with a bright-eyed grin, shaking Jaebeom’s hand firmly. “Congratulations!”

“Ah, thank you,” Jaebeom greets him awkwardly, looking around and realizing Nayeon and Mina haven’t stuck around. “It’s nice to meet you, Jinyoung’s been telling me a lot about the production, you must be excited.”

“I am! Jinyoung and I have worked together a lot, but we’re usually playing the same part! It’s nice being across from him for once.” Jackson’s eyes narrow into an affectionate smile as he glances over at Jinyoung.

Before Jaebeom can respond, or think too hard about the look Jackson is giving Jinyoung, Youngjae interrupts them, followed by Nayeon and Mina.

“Well well, Jaebeom, if you haven’t sniffed out Jinyoungie in the space of twenty minutes,” Youngjae greets them as he steps into their circle, arm linked with Nayeon. On Nayeon’s other side, Mina has an apologetic sort of smile on her face.

“Jackson, this is Youngjae, and have you met Nayeon?” Jinyoung asks, glancing at Mina questioningly. 

“I haven’t!” Jackson extends his hand again, shaking Nayeon’s jovially. “Although I’ve heard plenty! Congratulations to you too, I feel like I’m part of the wedding, Jinyoung and Mina talk about it so much!”

“Oh, I’m sorry if they’ve been boring you with the details.” Nayeon shoots the pair of them a scolding look before smiling back at Jackson. “You’re welcome to come of course, if they’re going on about it, it’s in April. There’s plenty of room, it’s going to be a big event!”

“I do love a good wedding,” Jackson says, still grinning brightly.

“And such a handsome couple,” Mina adds mildly. Jaebeom isn’t sure, but he thinks Mina might be teasing, Nayeon pouting dramatically and swatting at Mina’s arm in response. With a huff of laughter, Mina continues. “And with such good manners, so well behaved!”

“Oh, Nayeon’s alright! It’s Jaebeom you’d have to be worried about, if Jinyoungie hadn’t trained him well,” Youngjae says, patting Nayeon’s arm. “He’s been hard at work crafting the perfect husband for you, before you even met.”

“I don’t know,” Jaebeom interjects, trying to divert the conversation. “He’s gotten me into some weird habits too. I’m so used to keeping track of calories in Jinyoung’s meals when I make food for him, on one of our first dates Nayeon said she’d like dessert, and I asked “even with all the calories?” Just without thinking.”

“It was a rocky evening,” Nayeon says solemnly.

“Besides, he’s not as well-trained as he could be,” Jinyoung adds with an exaggerated sigh. “He still barges in to use the toilet while I’m showering.”

Nayeon’s mouth drops open in playful shock. “_No!_”

“Jinyoung! _You _come in to brush your teeth when _I’m_ in the shower!” Jaebeom sputters, glancing about the circle for an ally.

“That’s different!” Nayeon and Jinyoung say at once, turning to Jaebeom with matching incredulous expressions, before nodding to each other smugly, like their point was proven.

Youngjae laughs in glee, smacking Jaebeom on the shoulder. “You know you only have yourself to blame for this, Jaebeom!” 

When the laughter dies down, Mina clears her throat politely. “So Youngjae, how do you know Jaebeom?”

“Jinyoung,” Youngjae tsks, “you really never mentioned me to your coworkers? I’m appalled.”

Jinyoung turns to Mina and Nayeon with an apologetic smile. “We all went to the same high school. Youngjae, Daehyun who you met at the fitting, Jaebeom, and I. They were all in the visual arts stream, and I was in dance.”

“We all went to the same prestigious art institution,” Youngjae corrects, grinning. “Jinyoung’s the only one who made it.”

Jinyoung sighs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t put it like that, it sounds like the rest of you died or something.”

“Fine.” Youngjae rolls his eyes in return, imitating Jinyoung. “Jinyoung is the only one who graduated from that high school _and _has a career in the arts.”

The others watch Youngjae’s face with wide, curious eyes, as if expecting him to say more.

“Go ahead and ask,” Jinyoung shakes his head knowingly, “it’s what he wants.”

“I suppose Jaebeom doesn’t exactly work in the arts, just CSR,” Nayeon says slowly, “but I’m sure he graduated high school, or he wouldn’t have his masters.”

“Right, well… what happened?” Youngjae’s gaze drifts, like he’s trying to remember. “Daehyun got arrested first, right?”

“Nothing serious,” Jaebeom interjects quickly at Nayeon and Jackson’s scandalized expressions. Mina simply blinks, eyebrows shooting up.

Youngjae barrels on. “So he was basically expelled, and had to finish high school at that… school for bad boys. Then _I _dropped out, almost convinced Jaebeom to drop out too, if it weren’t for Jinyoung.” Youngjae nods at Nayeon. “You know if Jaebeom had got his way and dropped out, you probably would never have met him. Once again it’s thanks to Jinyoung’s machinations you two are together!”

“What do you think he’d be doing instead?” Nayeon asks with a laugh. Mina’s still smiling politely, and Jackson is watching Jinyoung’s face now with a strangely solemn expression. 

“Youngjae always says Jaebeom would be working at his tattoo place,” Jinyoung replies. His smile looks forced, at least to Jaebeom, like the conversation is grating on his nerves. 

“Jinyoung, please,” Youngjae grins, “if he dropped out with me he’d be a founding partner!”

“What about the others? The other groomsmen?” Mina asks, turning to Jaebeom. “How did you all meet?”

“Hyunwoo and Bambam, I met in university, although in… extremely different circumstances,” Jaebeom answers quickly, glad to be moving the conversation along, “and Mark I know through Jinyoung.”

“Mark and I met while we were both studying in New York. And Yongguk… wherever he’s got off to…” Jinyoung trails off, eyes searching the nearby faces.

“We met Yongguk through Daehyun’s bad boy connections,” Youngjae supplies. “At parties Daehyun would invite us to and stuff. You know Jaebeom and Yongguk just hated each other at first. Jinyoungie took a real fancy to him though,” Youngjae grins smugly at Jinyoung. “Something about his bad boy charm pressed all Jinyoung’s little goody-two-shoes buttons.”

Jinyoung scoffs in embarrassment, pretending to laugh it off, but he doesn’t deny it.

“Really?” Jaebeom fixes Jinyoung with a confused look, eyebrows scrunched together. “You had a crush on him?”

“Ugh…” Jinyoung glances around the curious faces assembled and sniffs haughtily. “No comment.”

The others laugh, but Jaebeom’s face only falls into deeper concern. Something about it is extremely disquieting. How did Youngjae notice that, way back in high school when he and Jinyoung were barely friends? But all these years Jaebeom, Jinyoung’s best friend, was oblivious to the fact? And they still know Yongguk too. Presumably Jinyoung outgrew this crush, if Youngjae is joking about it, but still, Jaebeom can’t quite manage to clear the stormy expression from his face.

“You didn’t know?” Youngjae asks him with a grin, hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder. “I always assumed that was why you didn’t like Yongguk at first.”

Jinyoung grins awkwardly at Nayeon and Mina, trying to salvage the situation. “Jaebeom doesn’t like anyone at first, you should have seen him and Mark when I first introduced them!”

But like a dog with a bone, Jaebeom can’t let it go. Something about the information frustrates Jaebeom, a puzzle piece that just refuses to fit. “Jinyoung barely knew Yongguk back then, it’s not like they ran in the same crowds.”

“And that’s where the appeal came in!” Youngjae insists. “Like I said, Yongguk drew well-behaved little Jinyoungie in with his street charm. Out of the four of us, Jinyoung was always the boring one, and Yongguk was exciting.”

“I was the boring one because I didn’t want to lose my scholarship, Youngjae. We can’t all afford to drop out of high school and still land feet-first in our career of choice,” Jinyoung responds bitingly. It could be interpreted as a teasing barb, but Jaebeom senses Jinyoung’s hackles are up, and the others seem to hold their breath for a moment.

Yongguk appears behind Youngjae and claps him on the back with a bark of laughter at his expense. Noticeably relieved that any confrontational atmosphere is being cleared, Nayeon smiles along. 

“The boring ones always have the best taste,” Yongguk says teasingly, winking at Jinyoung before turning to Youngjae with an offended frown. “And what do you mean “was” exciting?”

As much as Yongguk’s charming smile in Jinyoung’s direction prickles at Jaebeom suddenly, he’s grateful that the tension in Jinyoung’s body eases slightly as the tone lightens.

“The three of us had better stop being so concentrated in one location.” Jinyoung glances between Jackson and Mina. “Unfortunately, we’re not being paid to stand and chat with our friends.”

Jackson steps back, offering an arm to Jinyoung. “Let’s mingle then. Mina, I trust you can tell this,” he grins at Nayeon, “terribly fetching young lady all about the ballet company and the performing arts centre, and why she ought to donate.”

“I’ll be penniless by the time you see me again,” Nayeon says playfully, linking arms with Mina. 

Jaebeom watches Jackson lead Jinyoung away, tuning out Youngjae’s whining to Yongguk about something or other, and Nayeon’s indistinguishable but excited whispers to Mina. Funny, he thinks, how close Jackson and Jinyoung seem already. They’ve worked together before, Jackson had said, but Jaebeom doesn’t remember hearing his name that often. 

And as long as Jaebeom has known him, Jinyoung has been bad at making new friends. A picture of politeness and courtesy, Jinyoung is friendly enough on the surface, but making deeper connections with people, truly being close, has always been a different matter. When they were younger, it worked to Jaebeom’s advantage, keeping Jinyoung close by his side. Even when, looking back, he could have been treating Jinyoung much better. In a way Jaebeom still clings to this little aspect of Jinyoung, that he’s difficult to get close to, as a testament of their own friendship.

As Jaebeom looks on, Jackson leans closer to says something to Jinyoung, face lit up like he’s saying something funny. Jinyoung tries to hold his laughter in, eyes crinkling and mouth turning up in a closed smile, until Jackson laughs too, and Jinyoung leans in to him to laugh, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. 

Some part of Jaebeom knows it’s good, is proud of Jinyoung for reaching out, making friends. Feels happy to see Jinyoung laugh. But he also feels that sensation of listlessness again. A moon drifting further and further from Jinyoung’s gravitational pull, desperate to return to his safe orbit, but at the mercy of the cold currents of space. As selfish as it is, sometimes Jaebeom hates to be reminded that Jinyoung’s life no longer revolves around him. 

The chatter of the people around him fills Jaebeom’s ears. The deep drone of Yongguk’s voice, Mina’s sparkling little giggle, Jinyoung’s grounding familiar laugh floating across the room. They’re all wrapped up in neat little pairs, Jaebeom’s friends, and he can’t bring himself to tune into their words, the sound of their voices crowding in his head but not meaning anything. Jaebeom’s eyes seem to darken around the edges as his gaze stays fixed on Jinyoung, with a yearning in his chest, like the echo of Jinyoung’s gravity.

But he can’t give in to the sway of it, not when he’s fought so hard to get this far. So Jaebeom stands alone among his friends, eyes caught so far away, on Jinyoung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far, and for all the comments and kudos on my first chapter! I hope you continue to enjoy the story! I'm also on twitter & curious cat as JayofDiamonds, if you're shy but would still like to comment! :)


	3. February (Jinyoung's Intermission)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> February, and The End. (The song, there are still three more chapters, lol) I had planned to have a Jinyoung-centric chapter from the planning stages, and I was so happy to find out it lined up perfectly with his song on the album… it’s fate! I feel like The End has such a fatalistic tone that is intrinsically Jinyoung. Unlike the other chapters, for this chapter only, we get a peek into Jinyoung’s feelings and what he’s up to. Opening night for La Sylphide and the wedding itself creep ever closer. 
> 
> I’m sorry this chapter is so much longer than the previous two, especially because a good portion is just me banging on about La Sylphide. It probably could’ve done with a couple more edits but I wanted to get this posted already & keep moving the story along ><

February comes and Jinyoung makes himself busy, busy, busy. From all his research and foreknowledge, he knows that planning and organizing weddings is a great deal of work for everyone involved, especially one of this size. But he honestly wishes there was more, more to make himself busy with, more to do for Jaebeom that didn’t involve being around him. 

Jaebeom’s started to go through his stuff at the apartment, and Jinyoung can’t bear to watch. It tears at his heart to see their life together being pulled apart. He wants to spend more time with Jaebeom, like it’s their last chance to be together, but Jinyoung’s found himself sensitive. Like a hart in the forest shot through with an arrow, he needs time to lick his wounds away from the hunting party.

Jinyoung’s logical side knows that Jaebeom won’t stop being his friend when he’s married. But nevertheless something is changing between them. Sometimes Jinyoung entertains the selfish fantasy of telling Jaebeom he doesn’t want him to get married. Of tearfully confessing his love and falling into Jaebeom’s open arms, his feelings returned. He knows the reality is Jaebeom’s feelings don’t match his own, but Jinyoung is aware he holds some power over Jaebeom. 

But he can’t exert that power, not now. The guilt he feels is too great. Youngjae often talks about the different life Jaebeom would have if Jinyoung hadn’t convinced him to stay in school. That guilt still constricts Jinyoung’s heart. To think Jaebeom could be happy, could be doing his art and getting paid for it. That he wouldn’t be working at his father’s company, trapped under his father’s thumb. Jinyoung had been selfish once, kept Jaebeom by his side when he should have let him go. He knows he can’t do it again, and deny Jaebeom the happiness of marriage, of his life blooming ahead of him.

Lately it feels dangerous to be around Jaebeom too much. Tender moments feel too tender, and Jinyoung’s feelings weigh heavily on his tongue, eager to spill out in a confession. Perhaps he was comfortable before, taking for granted having Jaebeom by his side forever. He feels like he’s being too obvious, exposing his heart to Jaebeom without even saying a word. Sometimes Jaebeom falls asleep on the other side of Jinyoung’s bed for the night, a habit left over from their first apartment together. The closeness had always felt intimate, special to Jinyoung. Jaebeom hadn’t always felt comfortable sleeping side-by-side with Jinyoung, and it was hard work to cultivate such a level of intimacy. But now it feels inappropriate, like Jinyoung is taking more than he’s allowed. There’s nothing wrong with it, really, nothing that would be betraying Nayeon’s trust. Only Jinyoung’s feelings. 

If it’s not these soft, unbearably gentle moments, it’s the harsh, cold ones. Jaebeom has been stressed, about the upcoming wedding, and work, and he doesn’t like talking about it. Jinyoung understands all these things, quite swept off his feet with rehearsals himself, but they clash just as often as they come together in harmony. Jaebeom snaps at him about the smallest things, like spending too much time with Jackson and Mina, or leaving his shoes out in the hall. As wound up as Jinyoung is, he rarely backs down from a fight. 

Jinyoung takes comfort in the fact that they’re both better at apologizing now. They never would have when they were younger, just ignoring the fight and burying the tension. Now, Jaebeom always looks as regretful as Jinyoung feels to have caused friction, and it cycles back to the moments of openness. And once again Jinyoung feels too open, too transparent. Drifting away, putting careful distance, seems to Jinyoung the best way of dealing with both situations. Jinyoung feels as if he’s walking along an unsteady tightrope, never sure which Jaebeom he’ll be coming home to.

Hakyeon has been working everyone hard in practice, and Jinyoung is grateful for the distraction from the rest of his life, despite the stress. He’s been spending more and more time with Mina and Jackson, meeting them for breakfast after yoga, going out to dinner with them after practice. Sometimes Jackson even tags along with Jinyoung and Mina when they go to check out a florist or photographer’s studio for the wedding. 

It’s comfortable like that. No Nayeon. No Jaebeom. Just the idea of a wedding, the concept of doing something to make Jaebeom’s life easier. Jinyoung has always got along with Mina, and if she notices his moods, she politely lets them slide. Jackson, however. Jackson has watchful eyes and an attentive ear, and seems to be getting the lay of the land quicker than Jinyoung would like.

“_This_ is the colour scheme?” Jackson asks for what must be the fourth time that week, peering over Mina’s shoulder at her notebook while they finish breakfast. The page open has a few photographs taped to it, of the bridesmaid’s dresses and Nayeon’s, as well as the groomsmen’s suits. Jackson shakes his head in scorn, pointing at the bridesmaid’s dresses. “This is like… grey!”

“Jackson, it’s called pale lavender,” Mina argues, even though she had looked just as skeptical at the time. She points to the picture of Jinyoung in his suit. “_This _is grey.”

“There are different shades of grey,” Jackson replies earnestly.

Mina just frowns, giving him a warning look.

“I didn’t mean it like _that_,” Jackson protests with a sniff. “I’m just saying. These dresses are grey. Nayeon seemed so nice, but these dresses are ugly. Why would she make her friends wear these?”

Jinyoung finishes his orange juice idly and makes careful note of the meal’s calories in his own notebook, letting them squabble. The cafe they’re in is within walking distance of the building their morning practice is in. Its fairly nondescript rustic interior is strung up with red and pink plastic hearts for Valentine’s Day. By the cashier Jinyoung had noticed an offensively cheerful little sign reading “Sweets for your Sweet! Buy two coffees and get a slice of cake half off to share with your sweetheart!”

Jaebeom hasn’t mentioned any Valentine’s Day plans, and has been getting quite tetchy whenever Jinyoung brings it up. It’s one thing watching the man you love marry someone else, Jinyoung thinks, it’s quite another watching him be such a subpar fiancé when you know he can do better. Over the years Jaebeom has grown into a thoughtful and attentive friend. It irritates and confuses Jinyoung beyond belief that he can’t see Jaebeom putting the same effort into his relationship with Nayeon. Admittedly, Jinyoung has watched Jaebeom be a very laid-back and lackadaisical boyfriend in past relationships. But he would have thought being a fiancé, a husband, would be different.

“Bridesmaid’s dresses can sometimes look… a little ugly!” Mina is saying. “They’re supposed to highlight the bride!”

Eyebrows raising, Jackson crosses his arms challengingly. “And Nayeon likes these dresses?” 

“Nayeon barely likes her own dress,” Jinyoung mutters as Mina sighs.

“This kind of sucks for them, huh? I guess when you’re rich and your parents want a big wedding…” Jackson trails off, looking between Mina and Jinyoung with a dopey little frown, like a kicked puppy. “Maybe they should just elope.”

“They…” Mina pauses, sighing again. “I don’t know, sometimes Nayeon seems to be bothered by things not going as she wants. But sometimes she just doesn’t seem to care. Like she just wants to get it over with.”

“She’s eager to get married?” Jackson offers with a shrug.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say eager. Just, like I said. They want to get it over with.”

“Wedding planning can be stressful,” Jinyoung interjects. “It can put a strain on any relationship. That’s why we have to try our best to make it easy for them.”

“Try not to sound like you’re reciting an advice column Jinyoung,” Mina says dryly. 

Jinyoung gives Mina a pinched look. So maybe he had been saying lines to that effect a lot lately, but it’s just as much to convince himself than anyone else. There must be something putting Jaebeom in such foul moods lately, it can’t just be the usual work stress. 

“We’d better get going. Jinyoung and I are due there in twenty minutes. Plus we’re all doing that character deep dive, or whatever Hakyeon called it, in the afternoon,” Jackson grumbles. 

The three of them step out of the comforting warmth of the cafe into the street, tugging their coats hastily on. Mina waves them off, not needed in practice until the afternoon, and Jackson and Jinyoung walk together in silence for a block, huddling into their coats against the bitter February cold. It’s dangerous, Jackson being silent. Jinyoung’s learned it means he’s thinking very carefully about something.

Finally, Jackson turns to Jinyoung with a sniff, pulling his mouth out from behind his scarf to say, “You’re not happy with this wedding business, are you?”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung replies cagily, not meeting Jackson’s inquisitive stare.

“I mean…” Jackson shrugs awkwardly with his hands still tucked away in his coat pockets, “you’d prefer if Jaebeom wasn’t getting married.”

“Of course not,” Jinyoung answers immediately, relying on his acting skills to sell the lie, “Jaebeom is my closest friend, I’m happy for him.”

“Mina’s right, you do sound like you’re reciting some kind of script,” Jackson mumbles before clearing his throat. “Look Jinyoung, not to brag, but I have many friends. Which means I’ve been to many weddings. I know how people look when they’re excited for a wedding. Even with stress added.”

With a sigh, Jinyoung buries his face further into his scarf to hide a pout. “What gave me away?” 

“Nothing specific. Just a vibe, you know?” Jackson pauses, before fixing Jinyoung with an expectant look. “So why don’t you want your Jaebeom to get married? Is it Nayeon? I mean, she seemed nice enough when I met her, but she _is _making her bridesmaids wear those ugly dresses, so who knows what she’s really like!”

Jinyoung smiles despite himself at Jackson’s fussing. “It’s not Nayeon at all. I like Nayeon. And even if I didn’t get a chance to meet her, I trust Mina’s taste in friends. Nayeon was very nearly bullied into picking those dresses by the woman at the bridal boutique. I think that’s what I’m really worried about. Not them getting married, just. This wedding seems like it’s for everyone else’s benefit. For their parents, not them.”

“You think they’re being pressured into getting married?” Jackson gasps.

“No, I didn’t say that. They seem very happy together,” Jinyoung says carefully, although he’d hardly know. Whenever Jaebeom and Nayeon are affectionate with each other, a kiss on the cheek as they greet each other, his hand on her waist as they stand together, Jinyoung can’t bear to watch. “I think the wedding itself is getting out of hand.”

“Have you talked to Jaebeom about it?”

“I haven’t… told him what I’m concerned about, no. He hasn’t come to me with his own concerns, so… I want Jaebeom to get married,” Jinyoung explains stiffly as they climb the steps up to the dance academy building, “and I don’t want to burden him further with my reservations.”

A moment passes, Jackson scrutinizing Jinyoung’s face as they walk, nearly running right into the door for his troubles. He scrambles out of the way at the last second, holding it open for Jinyoung with a curious tilt of his head. “And that’s it? There’s nothing else?” 

“What else would there be?” Jinyoung unwinds his scarf, keeping his face carefully neutral, grateful for the blast of hot air from the lobby heaters. He forces a smile as they pass the lady at the front desk, briskly moving further into the building like he can escape Jackson.

They continue down the hall to the practice rooms, Jackson ominously silent again as they slip into their familiar room and start getting ready for practice in the small entry room.

“It’s just that. You and Jaebeom seem very… close,” Jackson says suddenly, voice quiet in the small space.

“I should hope so,” Jinyoung says airily, being purposefully obtuse, “we’ve been friends for a very long time. Jaebeom used to say that even our graves would be beside each other.”

Jackson lets out a little gasp, shoulders raised and hands over his heart gently, a soft sort of dramatic flair overtaking him. “That’s so romantic… in a morbid sort of way, but still. It’s like something your grandparents who’ve been together seventy years would say about each other. Ah, I’m so charmed! And he was so handsome too.”

“What, Jaebeom?” Jinyoung asks, eyes wide, even as he turns his back to Jackson to move into the practice room. He didn’t realize Jackson had been paying Jaebeom that much attention, but of course Jinyoung knows Jaebeom is strikingly handsome, even to relative strangers. He’s long past being jealous of what any casual passerby can observe of Jaebeom.

“_Yes_, I don’t know if I could survive having such a handsome man say such devastating things to me, tell me more!” Jackson shakes Jinyoung’s arm insistently, like a child demanding more candy.

“Tell you more what?” Jinyoung grumbles, deeply confused. All their other friends only shake their heads scornfully at things like this. “I’m just saying… we’re… close.”

“Clearly! Wonpil, Wonpil!” Jackson hurries over to Wonpil where he’s sorting out his sheet music at the piano. 

“Good morning,” Wonpil greets slowly, obviously a little off-balance from Jackson’s boisterous greeting.

“Wonpil, if someone were to say to you…” Jackson pauses for effect, “that even our graves will be beside each other, how would you feel?”

Looking quite bewildered, Wonpil glances at Jinyoung’s unimpressed face, worrying his lip. “Oh hold on, this isn’t about Jaebeom is it? He said that? To Jinyoung?”

“What!” Jinyoung cries as Jackson squeals in glee. “How could you possibly know that, I never told you!”

Wonpil shrugs, mouth smoothing out into a smug sort of look as he turns back to his papers. “Dunno, just seems like his style.” He looks over at them again, incredulous. “He said this recently?”

“Of course not,” Jinyoung says firmly, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. He’d like to be warming up, or breaking his shoes in, but he doesn’t want to risk leaving Jackson’s mouth running. Or Wonpil’s, as it would appear. “It’s just something he used to say.”

“But isn’t it such a romantic thing to say,” Jackson insists, practically ignoring Jinyoung to hound Wonpil.

“From what I’ve heard of Jaebeom, it seems like he has a very romantic spirit,” Wonpil says carefully, taking his seat in front of the piano. Turning to give Jinyoung one of his steady piercing looks, Wonpil takes a measured breath. “Now you two should really warm up before Hakyeon gets here. What do you want to do first?”

It’s usually easy for Jinyoung to focus on the physicality of dancing. He’s already a consummate professional, and it’s even easier to ignore distractions when they are as unpalatable as Jaebeom’s upcoming wedding. When Hakyeon barks at him about his left foot sickling, Jinyoung corrects it in the next step. When Hakyeon gives him grief about the extension in his arms (“You’re _dying_ Jinyoung, not hanging up laundry!”), Jinyoung reaches further. It comes without thinking.

But Hakyeon’s begun to hone in on the character psyche, on the emotion on their faces and in the movement of their bodies, and Jinyoung’s finding it more and more difficult to compartmentalize. Which is bothersome, because Jinyoung considers himself quite the expert on compartmentalizing. 

Mina arrives after lunch, and Hakyeon rounds the three of them up into a circle on the practice room floor.

“This afternoon I’d like to start…” even gesturing as he searches for the right word, Hakyeon’s movements are fluid and graceful, “well, brainstorming, let’s say. This production should be driven by character just as much as choreography. To start us off, I want to talk about character motivations. Really get inside their heads. Why do they do the things they do? What do they want? What drives them, and so on.”

After a moment of quiet contemplation, in which Jinyoung’s mind was carefully blank as he stretched out his leg, Mina speaks up. “I always thought of this ballet as a struggle between following your heart and following what you’re expected to do. So I think those two things are what drives all the characters.”

Jinyoung nods, thinking about the handful of papers he’s written on _La Sylphide _throughout his time at school. “Active female sexuality is incompatible with the rigid structures of societies in the ballet. The Sylphide seems to pursue James, when as a woman she is expected to be passive, the object to be pursued. And beyond that, for all three societies, the humans, witches, and Sylphs, it’s cross contamination between them that’s an even greater crime. To exist together, to ever enter James’ world as his bride, the Sylphide must lose her wings, and to lose her wings is to die. It’s the fairy bride archetype. She must be stripped of her symbol of creaturehood to be accepted into human society…” Jinyoung trails off sheepishly, realizing he’d been rambling aimlessly.

“Alright Jinyoung, don’t get too academic on us,” Hakyeon scolds with a raised brow. “This a deep dive, not a careful examination. Sink your teeth into the character, don’t pick them apart. How do you justify your character’s actions?”

Jinyoung’s heart hangs heavy in his chest, but he obeys, considering again the story. In classes, he usually approached it fairly coldly and clinically. Now, he thinks of the wedding. Just last week he’d sat in on the _corps _dancer’s rehearsal for some of the larger celebration scenes in the first act, the wedding party. And earlier this week, Jinyoung, Jackson, and Mina had begun work on the _pas de trois_ that takes place during the same celebration. 

Jinyoung had always loved that part. For everyone gathered, James dances with Effie as the engaged couple, but the Sylphide dances with James too, visible only to him. With a few adjustments to accommodate Jinyoung’s weight and Jackson’s strength, it’s going well.

But to think of weddings again, it weighs heavily on Jinyoung. Isn’t this a familiar situation? To think that James’ wedding preparations end in disaster, pulled away from his path by wild forces. Jackson’s gaze is hard on him, and Jinyoung startles when he meets it. Thinking for too long. Can he justify the Sylphide’s actions? Tearing apart the marriage, for selfish reasons. Ruining everything, just because he couldn’t see the bigger picture. 

“I’m not sure I can. I feel bad for… for James,” Jinyoung says slowly, eyes staring away at nothing. “He was going to be married, but he was lured away, and he can never return to society. Never be accepted back.”

“Jinyoung,” Jackson’s eyebrows furrow in concern, “Jae- _James_ is someone who makes his own choices, whether to do what is expected of him and marry, or choose a different path.”

“And especially for our James.” Mina glances at Jackson with a soft smile. “Would he ever have been truly happy marrying Effie? Even if things end poorly, sometimes being able to make that choice… is enough, right?”

“And situations like these don’t always have to end badly,” Jackson continues hastily. “Real life isn’t so dramatic, no witches bent on revenge, no fairy bride archetypes, no supernatural creatures or cursed scarves!”

“Real life?” Hakyeon frowns. “Jackson, focus.”

“Right, sorry,” Jackson says, ruffling his hair off his forehead sheepishly.

“And Jinyoung, cut it out, whatever it is you’re doing. Think about your own character’s motivations. You don’t think your character deserves happiness?”

Jinyoung shrugs. “At the cost of everyone else’s?”

“Jinyoung,” Jackson cuts in before Hakyeon can respond, “what if the Sylphide wasn’t you, but… your friend. Would you think of them as selfish? Wouldn’t you care about their happiness? About them finding love?” 

The thought constricts Jinyoung’s heart. He feels cornered, the heat of embarrassment crawling under his skin. He’s being difficult, not _getting it_. Of course he cares about Jaebeom’s happiness. About him finding love. Even if that love takes him away from Jinyoung. Thinking such a thought hurts Jinyoung, but of course he wants that for Jaebeom. 

Focus, focus. 

“I wouldn’t want them to _die_ for it,” Jinyoung replies finally.

“But she… _he_, in our case…” Mina shakes her head to clear it, “the Sylphide, they don’t know that’s what will happen. They were perfectly happy staying at the sidelines, and didn’t… disturb the order of things until the catalyst of the wedding, the realization that James is unhappy. I think maybe the Sylphide is just naive. Like what you were saying about their societies cross contaminating. She tries to introduce James to her world, maybe she truly believes they can be happy together. 

“Before our production, I always thought James was the true villain. He was cruel to Madge, abandoned Effie, and tried to trap the Sylphide. But now, I don’t know.” Mina’s eyes are fixed on the floor, lost in thought. “I guess I sympathize with him a bit more now. He’s struggling under the expectations of society too. He makes bad decisions, but like the others, he’s just trying to be happy, find love.”

“Jackson, why don’t you weigh in, being James?” Hakyeon directs.

“Right well, I agree with Mina,” Jackson says, keeping a careful eye on Jinyoung. “I think it’s obvious James cares about Effie, which is why he hesitates so many times before finally following the Sylphide. James tries to do what he thinks is right, for Effie, his family, and the society he lives in. But in the end he can’t. He follows his heart. From an outsider’s perspective, I’m not sure I _could _justify his actions, like Mina said, he hurt a bunch of people. But playing James, I can only say it’s a period of instability in his life. He thinks he’s doing what’s right. When he follows the Sylphide, James is doing what’s right for him, for his heart. Before, he was just going through the motions, doing what was expected.”

“I think it’s the same for Effie,” Mina chimes in after a moment. “It can make her seem unloyal, she’s already marrying Gurn by the end of the ballet, but she’s at an age to get married. It’s what women her age do in ballets: get married. I guess she just cuts her losses and goes with whichever man sticks by her. The narrative of the ballet rewards her, because she finds the closest thing to love while staying within the limitations of her society.”

“Then the Sylphide isn’t doing the right thing at all,” Jinyoung says, trying to centre back on the ballet itself. “James and Effie at least try to adhere to the rules of the society they live in. The Sylphide doesn’t follow any rules, not of the Sylphs or the humans. Or even the witches. The Sylphide just follows their own desires.”

“Yeah well,” Jackson waggles his head about, “fuck society, you know?”

Hakyeon smiles indulgently at Jackson. “I actually think Jackson’s right, Jinyoung. If you’re having trouble with the Sylphide’s intentions, brush aside these societal expectations you’re putting on the character. Clearly you think they don’t affect the character’s actions. What drives the Sylphide then, if not society’s expectations?”

“Love for James,” Jinyoung answers immediately.

“Focus on that then. Isn’t love more important than the arbitrary structures of society?” 

“And, not to be presumptuous,” Mina glances warily at Hakyeon, “but don’t you think it’s different with you as the Sylphide, Jinyoung? If we make the assumption that our James is gay, his society would never truly allow him to live peacefully and happily as himself. His love breaks the rules of his society, but… you know.”

“Fuck society,” Hakyeon offers primly.

Jinyoung nods automatically, focused on his hands. Some part of him wants to keep digging, keep arguing, but this isn’t the forum for that. He knows he’s getting too close, making too many connections with his own life. He’s just in a bad headspace today. Probably the Valentine’s decorations that were in the cafe getting to him. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Jinyoung tries to fight against his urge to withdraw. He’s a professional, he’s not going to start sulking at work because he can’t get his thoughts in order. But he keeps his answers short, tries to listen, and focus. 

Promising Hakyeon to give the Sylphide’s character proper thought in his own time, Jinyoung hurries out into the cold.

Jackson slowly lets up on the interrogations, but the piercing looks never change, always pinning Jinyoung like Jackson can see right into his mind. Jinyoung supposes it should bother him, but he’s become so used to his friends knowing his business. Mark has been the picture of understanding, to the point of pity, and Daehyun and Yongguk have been inviting Jinyoung out with them more than they ever have before. They practically tip-toe around Jinyoung, like he’s the one under severe wedding stress, Mark shooting glares whenever Bambam or Youngjae say anything tactless. Bambam doesn’t always think before he opens his mouth, but Youngjae, like Jackson, just seems to like pushing Jinyoung’s buttons.

Of course, Youngjae has never let Jinyoung off easy. For a long time, Jinyoung assumed Youngjae hated him, but they’ve come to something of an accord as they got older. Youngjae still says things that bite at Jinyoung’s conscience, always about Jaebeom, completely oblivious to how sensitive the matter makes Jinyoung. Other times, Youngjae is annoyingly aware of exactly what Jinyoung is feeling.

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?” Youngjae says lowly, a bitter tone under it all. 

He and Jinyoung are already in their suits, leaning up against the wall of the expansive private showroom of the wedding boutique. The walls are lined with heavy curtains, full-length mirrors, and doors to changerooms, the ceiling vaulted and brilliantly lit. Nayeon is wearing her bubbly wedding dress, standing on the main pedestal like a doll in a music box. Her friends swarm about her in their purple-grey dresses, smiling and chattering. Nayeon is practically glowing, and Jaebeom steps up beside her as directed.

They smile at each other brightly, Jaebeom’s hand curling protectively around her waist, and Jinyoung feels numb at the distance between him and the pair of them. Youngjae keeps talking in his ear, like the snake tempting Eve. 

“Watching Jaebeom become close with someone else. It means he’s moving away from you,” Youngjae says, like he knows the feeling well. “Like she’s replacing you in his heart.” 

“She’s not replacing me,” Jinyoung responds without conviction, “I’m still his friend.”

“But that doesn’t mean you want to see this,” Youngjae gestures derisively to Nayeon and Jaebeom, “does it?”

“Fine, Youngjae,” Jinyoung sighs irritably, keeping his voice quiet. “No, I don’t want to see Jaebeom with someone else! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I just-”

“Have you two gotten your adjustments done?” Mark interrupts, striding over to their quiet little corner.

“You think I’d still be in this clown costume if I had?” Youngjae grumbles, plucking at the front of his suit jacket scornfully.

Mark just rolls his eyes, and gives Jinyoung a concerned look. It feels like Mark hasn’t looked at Jinyoung for months without being Concerned, and it’s getting quite tiresome.

“Why don’t you go help Jaebeom?” Mark offers gently, gesturing with a tilt of his head back in Jaebeom’s direction.

“I’m fine here,” Jinyoung replies, resisting the urge to glance over at Jaebeom and Nayeon again. He’s seen enough, he thinks.

“Jinyoung, you’ve been so involved in everything, why stop now?”

“He’s fine, it’s not like he needs reinforcements!” Jinyoung snaps.

“Alright, don’t force yourself…” Mark lingers by them, eyes wide and compelling. He wants Jinyoung to tell him what’s wrong, Jinyoung knows the look well. 

“Mark, I’m just…” Jinyoung feels bad for being sharp with Mark, so he keeps his tone soft this time. “The more I push him away now, the less it will hurt the day he moves out.”

“Don’t push him away, Jinyoung, he’s your best friend!” Mark looks horrified.

“I just meant- I’m trying to keep him at a safe distance. Don’t worry Mark,” Jinyoung says steadily, settling back against the wall with his arms crossed. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Jinyoung…” Mark takes a breath, closing his eyes like he’s centering himself, then exhales in a sigh. “Alright. Alright. Do you want to leave? I can cover for you.”

“No, no, I’m not _leaving_. Just give me a moment,” Jinyoung asks, pleading tone slipping into his voice. He doesn’t want to be rude to Mark, who has been nothing but considerate, but he also doesn’t appreciate being treated like a porcelain doll teetering on the edge of a table.

“Okay,” Mark agrees, eyebrows pinched together in obvious worry, but he still doesn’t push it. He glances meaningfully at Youngjae, who shrugs.

“What? I can’t stand here while he’s having a moment? What if _I_ need a moment?”

Mark sighs again, irritated this time, and turns to stalk off towards Jaebeom and the others. 

“Do you hate Nayeon?” Youngjae asks suddenly, sounding genuinely curious.

“Of course not,” Jinyoung says, and it’s the truth. It would be easier if he could. Without thinking, his mouth keeps moving, spilling his guts to Youngjae as his eyes refocus on Jaebeom and Nayeon standing together like dreamy cake-toppers up on the pedestal. “The worst part is that I keep thinking… was I ever really important to him at all? Did our relationship matter? It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t something that could end in a marriage his parents would celebrate. So it’s not important. I know it’s stupid. Of course… of course I matter to Jaebeom.”

“Then fight for him. If you love him, fight for him.”

“Don’t be stupid.” As if Jinyoung hasn’t let a hundred drama scenes play through his mind, Jaebeom and he playing the main roles, a hundred scenes of confessions and tearful kisses. As if Jinyoung hasn’t desperately squashed every one of those fantasies down as soon as they wove their way into his mind. “This isn’t… this isn’t some TV drama. I can’t-”

“This is your problem Jinyoung,” Youngjae hisses, trying not to draw attention even as he gets worked up. “You take yourself out of the running before the race has even begun!”

“It isn’t a race!” Jinyoung bites back. “My feelings don’t matter, if I said anything it would just complicate things.”

“Ugh, you have this fatalistic way of thinking, always focused on the end, how everything’s gonna come crumbling down eventually, just the worst possible scenario-”

With a huff of anger, Jinyoung whirls around and hurries out of the room, down the hall to the bathrooms. Any longer and they’re sure to start a scene, and Jinyoung’s eyes already sting with tears. Of course he _wants _to fight for Jaebeom, he wants Jaebeom to stay with him, but he can’t, he _can’t-_

“Jinyoung,” Youngjae is calling after him, dress shoes clicking against the floor of the hall. “Wait!”

Ignoring Youngjae’s voice, Jinyoung turns into the bathroom. The stalls are all empty, but Jinyoung can’t even find it in him to be grateful, a sob bubbling up his throat. Why does Youngjae always have to push Jinyoung like this? Isn’t it enough to be right, to feel clever, he has to reduce Jinyoung to tears?

“Why do you always do this?” Jinyoung gasps out when the bathroom door opens again and Youngjae comes in. It’s too late to pretend he isn’t crying. 

“Oh, Jinyoung…” With a sigh, Youngjae comes up beside Jinyoung and leads him to sit together on the little loveseat by the sinks. Gently, he puts his hand on Jinyoung’s back, between his shoulder blades. “Look I shouldn’t- hmm. I know this is upsetting for you. I know Mark wants us to be all sensitive about your emotions. But I just get so frustrated about all this. We haven’t always got along Jinyoung, but I still don’t want to see you upset or… unhappy. It’s just annoying that you just can’t see how important you are to Jaebeom.” Youngjae lets out a frustrated sigh. “He cares about you before anyone else, and he always has, but you just won’t step up or- or- take advantage… I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I know I shouldn’t be so harsh on you. But like… saying your feelings don’t matter? Jaebeom would be furious if he heard that.”

“I _know_ Jaebeom cares about me,” Jinyoung says with a tired sigh. “What I said earlier… it’s just me being stupid, I know. Jaebeom cares about me. That’s exactly _why _I can’t say anything. If I tell him I don’t want him to get married, then he won’t get married. If I tell him… how I feel, it would put him in a bind. It would make him feel like he’s the source of my unhappiness.”

“Which he is.”

“No! It’s not that simple. I’m happy when I’m with Jaebeom, it’s my own feelings that make me unhappy. That… that ruin things. If I told him how I feel… he’d hate me for it.”

“Jinyoung,” Youngjae says firmly. “Jaebeom would never hate you.”

“He used to. When we first met.”

“He also used to be stupid! Or, at least, stupid_er_. He’s still stupid.”

Jinyoung gives Youngjae a scolding look, but Youngjae only barks out a laugh. “You know it’s true!”

“He’s really stressed about the wedding, you know. Distracted. Short-tempered.”

“What, you’ve been fighting?” Youngjae leans in, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, just over dumb things. I’ve been so irritable lately, I play right into it.” Jinyoung frowns down at his hands where they’re clenched together in his lap. “It’s like we’re in high school again. I just don’t want our last memories together to be us having screaming matches over who’s doing the laundry, or why I’ve been out late.”

“Your last memories together… now who’s being dramatic?” Youngjae pauses, and they sit in silence for a moment. “I remember how you two were in high school. I was jealous, you know, although I was never really sure why. You were so close despite everything. So… untouchable, like nobody else could break into the little microcosm of just Jaebeom and Jinyoung. As much as Jaebeom sometimes seemed to be straining to get away from you, you just clung to him.”

“Youngjae-”

“And rightly so,” Youngjae continues, raising a hand to quiet Jinyoung. “Jaebeom needed you, he was just, you know, a dumbass teenager. He was straining to get away from _everything_ back then, and it’s a good thing you were what stuck around. But you two have gotten too comfortable now. I know we all used to joke that you two could read each other’s minds, but you can’t. You say you know each other, but you can’t possibly know everything. You need to _talk_.”

With a funny little frown, Youngjae squishes Jinyoung’s cheeks with his knuckles, like some meddling auntie. “Now tidy yourself up, you look a mess,” he says.

Jinyoung splashes water over his face, careful not to get any on his suit as Youngjae watches from the loveseat.

“Do you think Jaebeom wants to get married to Nayeon?” Youngjae asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung meets Youngjae’s watchful gaze in the mirror. “Of course. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Youngjae shrugs, “it just came as such a shock when he told me. To all of us probably. I’m sure you weren’t thrilled.”

“As long as he’s happy, I’ll be fine.”

“God,” Youngjae scoffs, shaking his head, but when he turns to Jinyoung his eyes are soft. “The pair of you are so insufferably self-sacrificing. It’s really unbearable to watch.”

There’s a buzz and Youngjae pulls his phone out of a pocket. “Ah, Mark’s asking what I’ve done to you.”

“I’d better get back anyway,” Jinyoung says, drying his hands. Fluffy white hand towels _and _a loveseat in the bathroom? Fancy. “You coming?”

“I think I’ll lay low here for a bit. Just think about what I said, okay?”

With a nod, Jinyoung leaves the bathroom. That thinking Youngjae mentioned will have to come later, if ever. Jinyoung tries to clear his head of the clutter of emotions as he makes his way back to the main room. Compartmentalizing again. The Jinyoung that loves his best friend is packaged away, leaving only Jinyoung with an acceptable amount of affection for his friend, Best Man Jinyoung, to step into the room. Before Jinyoung can begin looking around for him, Jaebeom finds him.

Coming up beside Jinyoung, Jaebeom’s hand drifts hesitantly somewhere at Jinyoung’s waist. Despite himself, Jinyoung feels comforted, grounded by Jaebeom’s presence, caught in his world. 

“Hey, you okay?” Jaebeom asks, tipping his head to speak lowly to Jinyoung. “I saw you and Youngjae glowering in the corner together. You looked like Nora when we both get home late and she’s hungry.”

Jinyoung smiles wide and fake, eyes fixed on the floor. The image is funny, the thought of Nora, of their home, isn’t something Jinyoung wants to consider right now. The compartments of Jinyoung aren’t closing properly, the wrong emotions from the wrong Jinyoung spilling all over the place. “It’s fine. Really,” Jinyoung insists when Jaebeom looks skeptical. “We were just talking, you know how me and Youngjae are.”

“Okay,” Jaebeom doesn’t sound convinced, but he steps away anyway, spreading his arms to put himself on display. “How do I look then?”

“Mm, your tie,” Jinyoung says distractedly, reaching his arms out towards Jaebeom’s chest where his tie sits askew, turning back into Jaebeom’s orbit. 

Standing in front of Jaebeom, it feels like the rest of the room drops away completely this time, plunging Jinyoung into a universe of nothing but them. Jaebeom’s presence is overpowering, catching all of Jinyoung’s senses as he delicately tugs at Jaebeom’s stiff collar, slipping his forefinger between the fabric and the warm skin of his neck. Jaebeom flinches slightly at the cold touch, but just as quickly Jinyoung is finished adjusting his collar and the intrusion is gone. 

Smiling sadly, Jinyoung runs his hands over the shoulders of Jaebeom’s jacket, checking the fit, down his chest to tug it tight around his waist.

“You know this is the tailor’s job Jinyoungie?” Jaebeom says softly, breaking into a small affectionate smile.

As if he didn’t hear, Jinyoung runs his hands back up Jaebeom’s chest, under the lapels of the jacket. He doesn’t realize it, but his smile has long since dropped off his face, lips pulled down, brow tense with concentration. Jaebeom feels so real, in this suit in front of Jinyoung. Standing across the room with Nayeon, it had looked like a fantasy. Carefully, still just as innocent as checking the suit over, Jinyoung moves his hands to smooth over the lapels, leaving them resting there, palms flat against Jaebeom’s solid chest.

For a moment, Jinyoung can indulge in a fantasy that comes to him unbidden. Here the two of them stand, wrapped up in each other in body and spirit, dressed for a wedding. Jaebeom is every part a groom, dressed for _his _wedding. And in that moment it is Jinyoung’s wedding too. It’s Jinyoung that Jaebeom is marrying.

“Jinyoung?” Jaebeom asks, bringing his hands up to Jinyoung’s elbows gently.

Jinyoung can feel Jaebeom looking into his face, trying to make eye contact, but Jinyoung can’t take his eyes off Jaebeom’s neck where his shirt meets skin.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom sounds more concerned now, the bemusement of earlier gone from his voice, “what’s wrong?”

Just as Jinyoung realizes his eyes are stinging with tears, Jaebeom is bringing his hands up to cup Jinyoung’s face, tilting it up to face his. With his thumbs Jaebeom brushes the tears away from Jinyoung’s lashes. Still, Jinyoung’s gaze doesn’t move from where its fixed at Jaebeom’s throat. It’s just too much. He wants to melt into Jaebeom’s touch.

“Jinyoung?”

“I’m just tired,” Jinyoung finally says, and he is, but his voice breaks in a way that betrays more tears to come. He feels dizzy now in Jaebeom’s arms, with his unbearably worried face peering into Jinyoung’s. “I… I need to sit down for a bit, sorry.”

Pushing Jaebeom’s arms away from him, Jinyoung hurries off in what he hopes is an upright and unconcerning fashion. Tucked away behind the thick curtains lining the walls are alcoves with built in benches, no doubt left over from whatever the building previously was. Or maybe they’re left there as little private spaces for frazzled brides or grooms to escape to.

Either way, Jinyoung slips behind a curtain to seek out this privacy, only to find Nayeon already sitting on one of the little benches. The white ruffles of her massive skirt are heaped around where she sits, and her face is buried in her hands.

“Nayeon?” Jinyoung asks quietly, not trusting his voice to be steady, and not wanting to give away their hiding spot.

Wincing, Nayeon raises her head from her hands, eyeliner smeared by tears. Jinyoung’s brow pinches in worry, heart sinking heavily through his chest down to his stomach. Guiltily, he pushes aside his own misery, feeling sick at the thought of the tenderness Jaebeom had just been showing him, hands gentle on Jinyoung’s face, while Nayeon was crying here alone. 

Slowly, like Nayeon’s a rabbit set to bolt, Jinyoung sits down beside her. He reaches out to place his hand comfortingly over hers where she’s clasping them on her lap now. “What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing,” she says with a shake of her head, not meeting Jinyoung’s watchful gaze. “Just hiding from relatives, you know. I love my friends but there’s just… there’s just so many people…”

With a soft smile, Jinyoung squeezes her hand. “Don’t let Jaebeom hear you say that, you’ll never hear the end of it,” he jokes lightly. “But, it’s okay to want a break from it all.”

“I just-” Nayeon blurts out, before hesitating, glancing over at Jinyoung with wide questioning eyes. He nods for her to continue, so she takes a steadying breath and does so in a small voice. “I just… feel like nothing’s going the way I want it to. The venue, the food, the cake, the flowers… This dress. And I hate that you and Mina and all my friends are fighting so hard for what I want and what Jaebeom wants, and you’re getting overruled too. …I’m sorry for complaining.” Nayeon sniffs. “Am I being a total bridezilla?”

“Of course not,” Jinyoung replies firmly. “You and Jaebeom have been very accommodating. And don’t worry about Mina and I, all your friends. I’m just sorry we can’t advocate well enough for you both to give you the wedding you want. Your opinions should be the most important, because this wedding is for you two, and nobody else.”

“Right,” Nayeon mutters with a little quirk of her lips, like she doesn’t buy it. She sniffs, and offers Jinyoung a tight smile. “Sorry. I just feel like I’m letting people down either way. Damned if you don’t, damned if you do.”

“If you do… what?”

“Get married,” Nayeon says, like it’s obvious.

Jinyoung’s heart feels heavy where it sunk through his chest earlier, and the dizzy feeling from before returns. “Nayeon… You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“No, it’s more like the first thoughts coming back.”

“I… I know I’m Jaebeom’s friend, but if this wedding is something you’re not sure about… You should do what makes you happy. Even if it makes Jaebeom unhappy at first, it’ll be better for you both in the long run.”

Nayeon brings a hand up to rub at her eyes, smearing her makeup even more, before looking over at Jinyoung. It’s difficult to tell if her smile is sad or fond, but she brings her hand back down to squeeze his. “Thanks, Jinyoung. But it’s okay. This is what we’ve chosen.”

Cocking his head in confusion, Jinyoung opens his mouth to respond when part of the curtain near them shuffles. 

Daehyun pops his head in, gaze casting about until he spots them. “Alright you two, lets not have this end like that Panic at the Disco video.”

“There’s no doors to close, Daehyun,” Jinyoung shoots back snidely.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you even got that reference,” Daehyun says with a grin. “Just hurry it up, people are getting antsy, and your friend with the muscles is here.”

“Jackson?”

“I don’t know, I was so intimidated by his pectorals I left before I got his name.”

“What?” Jinyoung says incredulously as Nayeon lets out a little giggle beside him.

“His… his shirt was unbuttoned a bit,” Daehyun says feebly. 

“Oh, whatever,” Jinyoung waves a hand at Daehyun dismissively, “we’ll be out, just give us a moment.”

“Ooh, a moment,” Daehyun says, wiggling his eyebrows but obeying, leaving them in peace.

“Jackson’s here?” Nayeon asks, voice watery, when Jinyoung turns back to her.

“Yes, we’re still trying to rustle up a few more groomsmen,” Jinyoung explains, sitting down and gently using a thumb to fix Nayeon’s eyeliner, “and now that he and Jaebeom have met a couple times, it seemed reasonable. They get along pretty well, and Jackson’s amenable.”

“Oh that’s good, I liked Jackson!”

“More people though,” Jinyoung says teasingly, offering Nayeon a conspiratorial smile as they stand.

“At this point, I doubt one more will make much of a difference.”

“Clearly, you aren’t familiar enough with Jackson.”

When Nayeon emerges, she is quickly bustled off by her friends towards the waiting tailor, Mina shooting Jinyoung a quick look of thanks. Off by the door to the hall, Jackson is being greeted raucously by Youngjae and Yongguk, and it fills Jinyoung with a sense of endearment to see Jackson so quickly making himself at home. 

Just as Jinyoung is turning to find Jaebeom, he’s found first yet again, Jaebeom coming over with a searching look on his face. 

“Jinyoung! Are you okay?” Jaebeom asks when he’s close enough to speak quietly. “I’m sorry, Mark grabbed me for the tailor, or I would’ve-”

“Hyung, I’m fine,” Jinyoung insists, mustering up a real smile this time, private and soft. Going to dust nonexistent lint off Jaebeom’s broad shoulders, Jinyoung leaves his hands resting reassuringly on Jaebeom’s biceps. “Sorry to worry you. Has the tailor made all the adjustments then?”

“Yeah, it’s just the trouser length, everything else is as it will be.”

“Good,” Jinyoung says, still smiling, letting his hands drop to Jaebeom’s elbows as he appraises Jaebeom in his suit. “You look very handsome hyung.”

Jaebeom’s face lights up in return, bashful and pleased, eyes squeezing closed as his smile broadens across his face.

And Jinyoung knows this is just a momentary upswing on the rollercoaster of their shared emotions, as they hurtle towards the wedding day. There will be more highs, and more lows to come. But for now, he succeeds in boxing away that annoying little Jinyoung with his messy emotions and illogical thoughts, and basks in Jaebeom’s radiant smile for as long as he still can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone: pls think about this Jinyoung  
Jinyoung: head empty, no thoughts
> 
> I will be posting an accompanying playlist for this fic on twitter soon! (@JayofDiamonds) Then it's back to Jaebeom next chapter!


	4. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Jaebeom’s perspective with March and Time Out. More arguments, being tense, etc. But a playful element comes in as the Bachelorette party happens this month, and Jinyoungie is invited~
> 
> Also I just wanted to thank everyone who has been leaving kudos and commenting! I get so fussy about replying to comments that sometimes I just avoid replying altogether, but I do read them all! I’m very grateful for every comment, no matter how long or short, it’s really encouraging to read them! I feel very evil to be fueled by comments of pain caused by my fic, but it will hopefully be worth it in the end >:)

“You have to do something about these moods,” Youngjae tells Jaebeom one evening after dinner. 

Jaebeom scowls.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Maybe you should take some time off work. Since you’re telling Jinyoung it’s all _work stress_,” Youngjae emphasizes the words like he knows it’s a lie. 

“How do you know that’s what I’m telling Jinyoung?” Jaebeom grumbles, stuffing his hands petulantly into his coat pockets. So far it’s been a bitterly cold March, but Jaebeom regrets agreeing to walk home with Youngjae for more reasons than the weather.

“What, you think we don’t talk about you behind your back?” Youngjae scoffs. “You’re practically all we ever talked about when we were younger, we had no other shared interests.”

“…Shared interest? Makes me sound like a hobby.”

Youngjae shrugs, not disagreeing. “Seriously though, you need to destress.”

“So I take time off work, and do what?” Jaebeom still doesn’t even glance over, though he can feel Youngjae’s unimpressed gaze boring into the side of his face. Maybe he’ll get lucky and Youngjae will walk into a telephone pole. 

“I don’t know, recentre? Relax, make a little art?” Youngjae perks up, tone eager. “You could come down to the shop, see how things are-”

“Youngjae, I need to save my time off for the wedding… and stuff,” Jaebeom interrupts before he gets too carried away.

“Stuff being the honeymoon, and the time you’ll need to take to move out of Jinyoungie’s place and in with Nayeon.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jaebeom says flatly, like it’s just a little joke, like he’s just a little _stressed_ about it. The reality is a deeper wound. Coming home to Jinyoung is both a welcome reprieve and a harsh reminder, the slow process of packing leaving boxes of Jaebeom’s life scattered around the apartment.

Youngjae pauses, examining Jaebeom with a judgemental look, letting the silence hang heavy between them. Then he sighs, long-suffering and pitying. “Why are you even getting married?” 

“Listen-”

“No, you listen,” Youngjae snaps. “This is really pissing me off, Jaebeom. You act like this whole thing is only making you unhappy. What about Nayeon? What about all the people who care about the two of you and want you to be happy? Judging by the size of the wedding party, I’d say it’s rather a lot.”

“Shut up Youngjae,” Jaebeom bites back. “Give me a break, for fuck’s sake. I wouldn’t expect you to understand having responsibilities, or obligations.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Youngjae sneers irritably. “I don’t know why you’re on this doing-things-to-please-your-father kick all of the sudden! The Jaebeom I knew in high school would be disgusted.”

“Unfortunately some of us have to grow up.” Jaebeom pulls out his phone. No messages, but it’s late enough Jinyoung will be home and wondering where he is, and he’s tired of this conversation with Youngjae. Without looking back at Youngjae, Jaebeom turns to cross the street, shoving his phone brusquely back into his pocket. “I have to go, Jinyoung is waiting for me.”

Just before he hurries out of earshot, Jaebeom hears Youngjae say quietly, “He sure is.” Jaebeom had practically been expecting a rude comment shouted after him, but he knows Youngjae doesn’t like arguing, not at heart. Even so, he’s been getting on Jaebeom’s case more and more lately, and it’s all Jaebeom can do not to cut him off entirely until the wedding. If he excommunicated everyone who had been showing _concern_, Jaebeom would have hardly any friends left.

Alone now, Jaebeom heads home at a brisk pace, trying to drown out the anger. It just makes him feel so cornered when Youngjae, Mark, even Jackson of all people, start questioning his choices. What do they want him to say? Jaebeom’s never been good at admitting his mistakes, and he can’t even bring himself to consider the upcoming wedding a mistake. 

Just to himself, Jaebeom can admit he didn’t think it would be this painful to tear himself from Jinyoung. Perhaps he took for granted that they would be together forever. It’s a childish fantasy, he knows, unrealistic and foolish. 

Even as young bachelors, people find their living arrangement odd. If Jaebeom doesn’t get married now, will he ever leave Jinyoung? What happens when Jinyoung meets someone, gets married, has children? Jaebeom could hardly still live with him then. Funny old uncle Jaebeom who lives in our basement.

And Jaebeom knows his bad moods have been straining his relationship with Jinyoung. With everyone really, but there’s no escaping Jinyoung when they live together. Maybe it’s driving them apart, making Jinyoung all the more eager for Jaebeom to get married and get _out_.

Jaebeom tries to settle the irritation from his argument with Youngjae as he rides the lift up to their apartment, not wanting to spoil another evening with his temper. When he unlocks the door, Jinyoung is watching him owlishly from the sofa, sweatpants rolled up to his knees, feet in a round tub of freezing water and ice cubes. Nora is watching from the back of the sofa, expression comically similar to Jinyoung’s, like Jaebeom disturbed them whilst gossiping. 

“Hey-” Jaebeom starts to greet them, only to be interrupted by his phone vibrating. With a tight apologetic smile to Jinyoung, Jaebeom kicks his shoes off as he answers the call.

It’s his mother, and her voice comforts Jaebeom for a moment as he moves into the kitchen, still in his coat. But like everyone else, she only wants to talk about one thing. She’s never abrasive though, always delicately asking how everything is going, and Jaebeom could never raise his voice at his own mother. Not anymore anyway. But she touches on the same nerves, the same sensitive spots, without meaning to. He reassures her. It’s easier to fool her, so willing to believe her son is being honest.

When Jaebeom comes back into the front room, Jinyoung is twisted around to watch him over the back of the sofa. “Hi.”

“Hi. Just my mom,” Jaebeom says quietly, lingering in the kitchen doorway. “I think she’s having pre-wedding jitters.”

Jinyoung blinks at Jaebeom in confusion, tilting his head to the side curiously.

“She’s just… worried, that Nayeon and I keep getting overruled on stuff. That it won’t be a wedding I’ll even enjoy.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Oh just… reassured her, you know. She’s right of course, it’s not the wedding either of us would have chosen for ourselves.” Jaebeom shrugs. “But I don’t think either of us expected it would be anyways.”

“Hyung…” Jinyoung blinks his big pitying eyes up at Jaebeom.

“Oh, don’t worry Jinyoung,” Jaebeom tries to laugh it off, mustering up a light-hearted tone. “I don’t need you getting cold feet too.”

“Only the bride and groom can get cold feet, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung says matter-of-factly, turning away from Jaebeom. “What temperature anybody else’s feet are isn’t important.”

“It’s important to me, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom says, suddenly overtaken by a solemn need to be close to Jinyoung again. “I need you there, I don’t think… I don’t think I could do this without you.”

“Well,” Jinyoung sniffs, tone oddly cold, still not turning back to Jaebeom, “my feet are literally in an ice bath right now, so check back later.”

Jaebeom nods, feeling a little off-kilter. It’s never been like Jinyoung to balk like that at emotional vulnerability, especially in Jaebeom. Make jokes, yes, but to sooth, not to brush aside. A habit from when Jinyoung had to try very hard to make _Jaebeom_ comfortable with emotional vulnerability. But Jaebeom doesn’t remember Jinyoung disengaging so firmly whenever Jaebeom has put himself out on an emotional limb in the past.

Feeling strange and numb from the experience, Jaebeom silently goes to hang his coat up in the front hall. Maybe Jinyoung _is_ getting tired of him. Tired after all the work he put in, helping Jaebeom become the man he is today. So much of what makes Jaebeom a good person, he attributes to Jinyoung’s influence. But perhaps he hasn’t become good enough to keep Jinyoung by his side.

Interrupting Jaebeom’s train of thought, Jinyoung pipes up again. 

“How was dinner with Youngjae? He said…” Jinyoung hesitates, lowering his voice, “that you might be in a bad mood.”

“He-” Jaebeom narrows his eyes, feeling a flash of irritation. The thought of Youngjae texting Jinyoung warning him of Jaebeom’s foul mood like an incoming storm doesn’t sit well with him. “Since when are you two so chummy?”

“He’s just worried about you Jaebeom,” Jinyoung says, tone insufferably reasonable, like he’s explaining it to a child.

“Oh he said that, did he?” Jaebeom bites back snidely, becoming the child Jinyoung is expecting him to be, heart clenching at the easily avoided conflict he’s creating from nothing.

“I… surmised. We just don’t want you to get too burnt out.” Jinyoung shifts his weight, making the ice slosh and clatter in the tub. His phone is clutched in his hands. “If there’s anything I can do to help-”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom breaths his name out like a sigh, and Jinyoung winces visibly, brows scrunching together. That only squeezes Jaebeom’s heart tighter, that Jinyoung has to pick a path carefully around him, lest he set off an explosion. Just like when they were younger, Jinyoung wilting and shrinking to make room for Jaebeom’s temper. Jaebeom prefers it when Jinyoung’s temper flares hotly to match his.

With another, softer sigh, Jaebeom moves to sit beside Jinyoung on the sofa, anger draining out of him and leaving him exhausted. Jaebeom gently pries one of Jinyoung’s hands free where they’re clasped tightly around his phone and threads their fingers together. Guiltily, Jaebeom doesn’t meet Jinyoung’s gaze, focusing on the grounding weight of their hands connected. 

This was one of the last things he allowed himself to find comfort in, when they were younger. Without the ghost of rough-housing, touching Jinyoung’s skin wasn’t something Jaebeom let himself indulge in. A hand on the back of Jinyoung’s neck, an arm slung around his shoulders, no matter how gentle always had the threat of Jaebeom’s strength and control. But not even Jaebeom could convince himself that holding hands was anything rough or violent.

“No, don’t… I just mean, you’re doing so much already. It’s not like you don’t have a job, a life of your own,” Jaebeom says, though he hates the thought. It feels childish, to be so put out by the idea of Jinyoung’s life being so separate from Jaebeom, and only to become more so. Running parallel, any points of intersection coming unraveled. “And you’re doing all the best man stuff… Probably above and beyond, really.”

“Well, I’ve actually outsourced planning the stag party,” Jinyoung admits quietly, squeezing Jaebeom’s hand, offering him a small smile and the relief of a change in conversation topic. “Mina and I both thought we’d be too busy with _Sylphide_ coming up, so Mark and Jennie are in charge of the bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

“That’s a bit concerning…” Jaebeom muses, tipping his head back to rest on the back of the sofa. “They’re a lot… wilder than you and Mina.”

“Oh, so we’re boring?” Jinyoung scoffs, poking Jaebeom’s side with a pout.

“I didn’t say that,” Jaebeom says with a grin, leaning his weight onto Jinyoung to distract him from poking. “I mean, you’re only as boring as I am.”

“_That_ boring? Hyung, there’s no need to be rude,” Jinyoung teases, jostling him back with a shoulder nudge. Before Jaebeom can respond, Jinyoung pulls away again with a sigh, playful mood evaporating like a switch has been flipped. “Anyway, I’d better get ready for bed.”

“Sure,” Jaebeom agrees reluctantly, letting his hand drop out of Jinyoung’s. He doesn’t usually feel so bereft to let go, but every time now, he wonders if it will be the last. The last time he holds Jinyoung’s hand. The last time they fall asleep together. The last breakfast, the last dinner. The last time to see Jinyoung stretch with Nora by his side. The last time he sketches them together in the early morning light. 

Jaebeom realizes Youngjae was right—in all the action going on, Jaebeom’s let what’s left of his art fall by the wayside. He hasn’t picked up his sketchbook in months, when he used to rely on it in times of uncertainty and change. He’s just been so tired. Art has seemed so unimportant lately, a childish dream leftover from when he imagined his life revolving around his own creativity. Nerves burn low in Jaebeom’s throat, and his heart seems to pool into his stomach like heavy tree sap, and he wonders if Jinyoung’s not the only part of himself he’s losing.

Apparently oblivious to Jaebeom’s careening thoughts, Jinyoung carefully dries his feet and carries the tub of water into the bathroom, where Jaebeom can hear the slosh of him pouring it into the bathtub to drain. 

As much as Jinyoung seems to be pulling back, stepping carefully to avoid Jaebeom’s temper, Youngjae isn’t the only one going out of his way to incite it. Bambam has never been particularly tactful, especially where Jaebeom is concerned, and for a new acquaintance, Jackson has been terribly nosy. Mark seems to have taken it upon himself to check up regularly on Jaebeom, in case he’s changed his mind or “just needs someone to talk to”. It seems like another regression that they end up arguing most of the time. 

Mark is just as much Jaebeom’s friend now as Jinyoung’s, but Jaebeom remembers when they were first introduced. Still struggling through university, Jaebeom was aflame with insecurity to discover Jinyoung’s roommate in New York had wormed his way into Jinyoung’s good favour. Jinyoung has never been outgoing enough to make swaths of friends, and when he was younger, Jaebeom had relied on that to keep Jinyoung by his side. Suffice to say, Jaebeom had gone out of his way to pick fights with Mark when they first started hanging out together. 

But it isn’t like that anymore. When Jaebeom realized Jinyoung could in fact have more than one friend, and wasn’t about to kick Jaebeom to the curb, things sorted themselves out. Now, the arguments are flaring up again. At least now, Jaebeom knows Mark is pushing him out of love, not hate.

“Lunch!” Mark crows as he barges through the door to Jaebeom’s office, making Jaebeom mistype a word in the email he’s drafting. 

“What are you doing here?” Jaebeom asks, gawping through his open door at the department’s gormless admin assistant, shrugging helplessly at him from her desk. The door swings shut behind Mark and Jaebeom sighs.

Wrestling his way out of his coat, Mark cheerfully sets two take-out containers on Jaebeom’s desk. “Lunch!” He sits down in the chair by the window like he owns it, draping his coat over the back of it. “_Someone_—won’t name any names—said you were overworking yourself and might be skipping lunch, so here I am.”

“Jinyoung.”

“I have a technician’s meeting at two though, so we’d better get eating,” Mark continues, pushing one container towards Jaebeom and opening the other. 

Heaving an exaggerated put-upon sigh, Jaebeom saves the email draft and clears a space for the food. They’re right of course, Jaebeom had been planning on just grabbing a nasty little wrap from the food place on the building’s main floor and having a working lunch.

“Look who I saw on my way here,” Mark says through a mouthful of noodles, sliding his phone across Jaebeom’s desk.

On the screen is a picture of the performing arts centre, more specifically an ad on the side of it. In it, Mina stands in front of Jackson, her arms clasped around him, her face looking searchingly away from him, showing her starkly lit profile to the viewer. Behind Jackson, Jinyoung seems to float above them, spectral in his billowing white sleeves, arms curved down as if to cradle them both. His face is turned solemnly down towards Jackson. And between them, with Mina in his arms and Jinyoung’s weight at his back, Jackson stares out at the viewer, eyes wide and yearning.

“Yeah, looks good,” Jaebeom mumbles thickly.

Silently, Mark reaches over and swipes to the next picture, another ad. It’s just Jackson and Jinyoung this time. Jaebeom knows the story well enough to recognize that Jackson’s character has just caught the Sylphide, his arms outstretched and pulling on a sheer scarf that wraps around Jinyoung’s waist. Jackson faces towards the viewer again, smiling playfully, like it’s a game of cat and mouse. Though Jinyoung faces Jackson, back to the viewer, anguish is written into his body language, arms spread open as if in supplication. His head is tilted upwards, bent back at the waist over the taut scarf that holds him. And just above the scarf, the two small wings attached to his costume, which Jaebeom knows are about to be shed, leading to his death.

When Jaebeom looks up, Mark has stopped eating, and is staring back at Jaebeom. It’s then Jaebeom realizes his eyes are stinging with hot tears.

“Are you okay?” Mark ventures. “Why are you crying?”

“No, I’m just- They’re nice.” Jaebeom pushes Mark’s phone back to him, blinking to recover himself. “Good shots. Jinyoung was worried the marketing wasn’t going to be up to the usual standards but yeah… They look great.”

“Yeah,” Mark says slowly, taking his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. Cautiously, he takes another mouthful of food, indicating Jaebeom should eat his.

A few minutes of peaceful eating pass, until Mark goes and brings up the wedding. Really, Jaebeom thinks even people _eager _to get married would get annoyed by the number of times people want to talk about it.

“How’s everything going with the wedding?” Mark says, tidying away his garbage. “Jinyoung’s put me in charge of the stag party you know.”

“I know,” Jaebeom grunts, electing to shovel more noodles into his mouth.

“Any ideas? Requests?”

“I don’t know, stop talking about it?” Jaebeom replies testily after swallowing his food. “Surprise me.”

Mark sighs quietly. It’s an insufferable sound really, one Jaebeom recognizes well from his mother and from Jinyoung. The “disappointed, but not angry” sigh. The “Jaebeom’s being unreasonable, so I must throw myself on the sword of being patient with him” sigh. It annoys Jaebeom because it makes him guilty every time.

“Is this wedding going to make you happy Jaebeom?” Mark asks suddenly, but like it’s a question he’s wanted to ask for a long time. “You’ll be happy, married to Nayeon?”

“Sure,” Jaebeom answers, shrugging.

Mark clearly doesn’t believe him, brow raised skeptically. “Really?”

So Jaebeom lies. “It won’t make me _un_happy.”

“Okay.” Mark purses his lips like he’s getting annoyed, not accepting Jaebeom’s lie. “Is this wedding going to make _anyone _happy?”

“My mother-“

“No. I mean _this _wedding, you marrying Nayeon specifically,” Mark challenges, standing to throw his garbage out. He doesn’t sit back down, tense energy clear in the firm set of his slim shoulders. “You know your mother and your step-father would be happy with you marrying anyone, as long as you loved each other. So who?”

Jaebeom itches to stand, get on even ground, but he stays seated, tries to look unaffected. “Fine, it’s my father, so what?”

“So, what has he ever done for you?”

“I work for him,” Jaebeom says incredulously, gesturing around his office. 

“Yes, you work _for _him, as in you are doing something _for_ him, not the other way round!”

“It’s a prestigious position at a powerful company, I wouldn’t-” Jaebeom grits out.

“Jaebeom why are you arguing with me over this?” Mark interrupts, getting more and more worked up as he gesticulates wildly. “I know you don’t buy into half this crap, you’re just being contrary!”

“Stop persecuting me over a decision I made and maybe I’ll stop arguing,” Jaebeom responds, finally rising out of his chair in anger. He has to keep his voice low, trying to avoid office gossip, but his fury is evident in his tone. 

“Well _someone _has to give you a hard time, and I’m the only one who knows what the fuck’s going on!” Mark’s tone shifts, becomes pleading. “I know you’re being all moody lately because you’re bottling everything up, so just talk to me!”

“I’m just-” Jaebeom’s voice breaks, tears pricking at the back of his eyes again, quite without his permission. Quick as anything, Mark swoops in and puts an arm around his shoulder, a cross little look on his face. Jaebeom sighs, losing his grip on the anger and slipping into despair. “I don’t know Mark. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“Let’s sit down, yeah?” Mark pushes Jaebeom back down into his chair, and wheels the other one closer for him to sit on. He rests a hand comfortingly on Jaebeom’s shoulder where Jaebeom is curled over to press his palms into his eyes. Mark keeps his tone light, almost conversational. “I would hazard a guess you’re upset. Just… tell me a thing that’s been upsetting you.”

“Packing,” Jaebeom blurts out, voice muffled by his hands. “I’ve been sorting out my stuff, you know, to move eventually. I hate it. So many of my things are mixed up with Jinyoung’s. Books. Photos. Some stuff belongs to both of us, I don’t know which one of us… I don’t know.” 

“What else?” Mark asks levely.

“I hate that… I hate that Jinyoung hasn’t. That he isn’t here. Not, not _here_ here, in my office, just,” Jaebeom stumbles over his words, “like, here for me. Asking questions like this. I know it isn’t fair, to expect him to just know, but he should, shouldn’t he? We’re… he’s my closest friend, and he hasn’t figured out…”

“Figured out what?”

“That I’m upset,” Jaebeom mumbles, but it feels like a lie. There’s far more he wishes Jinyoung could figure out. Jaebeom wishes that, just as he used to, Jinyoung could navigate the perilous waters of Jaebeom’s complicated emotions, and return to Jaebeom with the treasures he found there, polished and valuable and working properly. 

“Jaebeom. I think everyone has figured out you’re upset,” Mark says, sounding deeply skeptical. “Besides, Jinyoung was the one who hounded me into having lunch with you. He never asks how you’re doing?”

“I just tell him it’s work stress. Wedding stress. Stuff like that.”

“Jinyoung’s not a mind-reader Jaebeom. He has no reason to suspect you’re lying to him. About why you’re upset, about your relationship with Nayeon.”

“Yeah.” Jaebeom nods, just to show Mark he’s listening, and tries to really take in what he’s saying.

“Just… don’t push him too far away from you,” Mark says, solemn all of the sudden. “No matter what other feelings there are, you two are best friends. Don’t lose sight of that.”

Finally, Jaebeom raises his head from his hands to look at Mark properly. “I never said I was pushing him away. Do you think I’m pushing him away?”

“Right,” Mark looks a little caught-out. “No. I just mean. Like you said. _You _made this decision. You can’t count on Jinyoung noticing and bailing you out if you’re regretting it. If you don’t want to get married, you’re the only one who can make that call. Or, you know, Nayeon. But certainly not Jinyoung. You know he would never want to make such an imposition.”

“Yeah… It’s not even that I don’t want to get married…” Jaebeom trails off.

“Just… what? Not to Nayeon?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Jaebeom admits, and that at least is the truth.

Mark nods, understanding. “Jaebeom, just because you don’t know what _you_ want, doesn’t mean you should start living your life according to what other people want. I know your relationship with your father is complicated, to say the least. But you don’t owe him anything. And you _know _that,” Mark says, emphasizing his last sentence with a jab of his finger at Jaebeom’s chest.

“But I owe my mother. My step-father. Jinyoung, they were there-”

“Jaebeom, I’ll stop you right there. We went over this. Those three love you, unconditionally. Anyone can see it. They just want _you_ to be happy, whether you’re marrying Nayeon or not.”

“I don’t know, I think Jinyoung will probably be happy to see me go,” Jaebeom says quietly. He hates to say it aloud. “I haven’t exactly been the easiest person to live with these past months. I’m… I’m worried we’ll hardly see each other after I… after I move out.”

“Dumbass,” Mark says, voice thick, and Jaebeom realizes Mark’s face is scrunched up fiercely like he’s fighting tears. Still, he speaks with firm conviction, not letting Jaebeom disregard his words. “You guys are gonna stay friends Jaebeom. Just try to make the most of the time you have left as his flatmate. You’ll still be best friends even when you don’t live together. I don’t think there’s anything that could get Jinyoung to stop caring about you.”

“Why are _you_ crying?”

“Because you two are a pain in my ass,” Mark snaps, sniffling. “And you’re giving me indigestion, I just ate.”

“Please don’t do anything extra for the bachelor’s party, I don’t think I have the energy. Jennie already warned me off sticking my nose into Nayeon’s bachelorette party, so I can only assume they’re doing something wild.”

“The scheduling’s a little messy,” Mark says slowly, “what with _Sylphide _running pretty much up to the day of the wedding.”

“Yeah I mean, Nayeon’s having her party next week.”

“So I thought something lowkey, we can all come over to you and Jinyoung’s and have a few drinks, a couple days before _Sylphide _opens.”

“It’s a bit of a mess though, I’m still… I’m still packing.”

“Then, why don’t we help?” Mark suggests as he’s grabbing his coat, pausing in the open doorway out of Jaebeom’s office.

“You all come over to… help me pack? That honestly sounds like the most dull bachelor party ever.”

“Perfect for you then,” Mark says, grinning cheekily. “I’ll send everyone some dates and we can coordinate! I’d better get going. I’ve got a meeting, and I think your secretary thinks we’re having an affair.”

“What?” Jaebeom squawks, peering out at her past Mark, only for her scandalized expression to turn to one of guilt, as she hastily averts her eyes back to her computer. “We were _arguing_.”

“Lover’s spat. You never argue with people you love?”

Jaebeom sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Been doing it more and more lately.”

“Yeah,” Mark says understandingly, eyes soft. “Just remember what I said, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jaebeom remembers, but whether he actually gives Mark’s words any further thought, well… he didn’t agree to doing that, did he? The wedding date speeds closer, and life seems to go by so fast. But Jaebeom tries to calm down at least. Mark was right about one thing—everyone can tell Jaebeom is upset. And something in his conversation with Mark brought Jaebeom a resigned sort of peace. It countered the question he’s been thinking, deep down, with another. Why isn’t Jinyoung stopping him from getting married? Well, why would he?

For so long, Jaebeom and Jinyoung have relied upon knowing each other inside and out, and that served in place of proper, open communication. Suddenly, this seems to be failing them.

Before Jaebeom knows it, it’s the day of Nayeon’s bachelorette party. Normally it would hardly involve Jaebeom at all, but Nayeon invited a few of his side of the wedding party, including Jinyoung. He had been quite scandalized to find out they were renting a private room at a male strip club, but was eventually convinced to go.

Jaebeom’s plans for the evening are to sit on the sofa watching mindless television with Nora, and he’s preparing for just this when he hears Jinyoung shuffle past and begin rummaging in their front hall closet. From what he can see with Jinyoung’s back turned to him, Jinyoung is wearing tight black jeans and a fitted black blazer with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Jaebeom narrows his eyes at Jinyoung’s ass in those jeans. It offends him.

Beside him, Nora thumps her tail against the sofa. She probably agrees.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Jaebeom asks casually from his vantage point on the sofa.

With a frown, Jinyoung turns towards Jaebeom and shuts the closet, a pair of shoes in one hand, his phone in the other. Under the blazer Jinyoung is wearing a white t-shirt with a wide neckline and some colourful artsy graphic, pink and purple. He’s even wearing some jewellery, and the jeans have provocative rips across the thighs, exposing the skin underneath. Which means they were probably Jaebeom’s once upon a time.

Jinyoung waits for Jaebeom to finish running his eyes over the rest of the outfit. “Does it look silly? Bambam said,” he checks his phone with a grimace, “uh… “slutty club chic”, and that I couldn’t wear a sweater _or _a button-up shirt. And Youngjae said three pieces of jewellery, minimum. And the colour theme is black and purple.”

“I…” Jaebeom can’t help the amused expression that comes over his face at the sight of Jinyoung looking so deeply concerned about his bachelorette party attire. “I’m sure if they have any objections, they’ll march you right back into your room to change when they get here. Although, I’ll tell you now, I doubt Youngjae will count your watch towards the jewellery quota. It’s got a leather strap. Just wear mine.”

“I’m not wearing your outlandishly expensive watch to a strip club,” Jinyoung argues, unbuckling the strap on his own watch. “It’s more expensive than Nayeon’s engagement ring, and even that makes me nervous.”

Jaebeom grins. “You don’t trust Nayeon?”

“No, I’m just saying if _I _had to wear something like that,” Jinyoung says, before stopping abruptly, staring at his watch pensively, face grim all of the sudden.

“I wouldn’t trust you with an engagement ring either,” Jaebeom scoffs, gaze drifting back to the television. “Considering what happened to rings I previously gave you.”

“Oh shut up,” Jinyoung grumbles after a pause. “It had a Simpsons character on it, maybe I lost it on purpose.”

“Hey, show some respect-”

Jaebeom’s interrupted by the buzz of the intercom system, and Jinyoung hurries to let Bambam and Youngjae in. When they finally reach the apartment, all glammed up, they pause in the hall to examine Jinyoung critically before even saying hello.

“Oh Jinyoung,” Youngjae says disparagingly, looking him up and down. He pulls Jinyoung’s jacket out of the way to examine his shirt.

“No, no,” Bambam waves his hand, his own expression quite pleased, “this is better than I thought. For Jinyoung, this is quite good. Some heavier make-up would have been nice, but hey, he’s not even wearing his ratty old lady watch!”

“My-” Jinyoung begins to huff, offended, only to be cut off by Jaebeom’s bark of laughter.

“I told you,” Jaebeom says fondly, wandering over to take Jinyoung’s watch from him. Jinyoung gives him a pinched little pout.

“Don’t worry Jaebeom, we’ll take good care of him,” Youngjae says, hooking an arm around Jinyoung’s shoulder, and Bambam nods in agreement. It’s entirely unconvincing, with them flanking Jinyoung ominously and grinning like hungry wolves.

“I think I can take care of myself,” Jinyoung grumbles under his breath, only for the other three to scoff.

“We’re going to a strip club Jinyoungie, not a library,” Youngjae says teasingly, beginning to steer Jinyoung down the hall. “Anyway, bye Jaebeom!”

“Bye,” Jaebeom repeats, leaning in the doorframe to watch them until they get into the lift. Then with a sigh, he returns to his spot beside Nora, hoping for a peaceful evening.

At around quarter to eleven, Jaebeom’s phone lights up with a text message from Youngjae. The evening has been a little _too _peaceful so far, so it feels nice that somebody remembers he exists, until he reads the text.

_omg one of the strippers knows jinyoung_

Frowning, Jaebeom mutes the show he frankly wasn’t watching, and types out a reply.

_...professionally…? _

For the next twenty minutes Jaebeom stares at his phone, awaiting reply. Finally he tosses his phone onto the other side of the sofa in frustration. Whatever. His interest has waned. There are plenty of ways a stripper might know Jinyoung. His face is plastered all over the performing arts centre. Along with the rest of his body. 

It isn’t until a little past midnight that Jaebeom gets another update on the bachelorette party. When his phone lights up again, he grabs at it hastily, suddenly incredibly interested again in how the stripper knows Jinyoung. But it’s from Bambam, as is the next, and the next, and Jaebeom’s phone is inundated with a series of unintelligible key-smashes from Bambam in all capitals. The only discernible words are a “holy shit” and a couple instances of Jaebeom’s name.

The next message he gets is from Youngjae, and it’s a video. Suddenly Jaebeom’s palms are clammy with trepidation. The thumbnail is a blur of pink lights. After a moment of contemplative silence, Jaebeom presses play.

It’s quite loud, and Jaebeom squints to figure out what’s going on as Youngjae fumbles his phone into position. The group seems to be in a private room, lit in a startling pink. On the stage Nayeon sits on a chair, a wild grin on her face. With more shrieking and phone fumbling, the video is unclear until Jaebeom can once again make out the stage, and there’s a man by Nayeon now. Jaebeom can only assume he’s a stripper, because of the muscle tone in his legs, clear through his torn jeans, and how he almost immediately takes his white shirt off to reveal a just as nicely toned back, eliciting thrilled screams- oh no.

As soon as Jaebeom’s mind catches up with his eyes, he flings his phone away from him across the sofa, horrified.

“No! _No_!”

Like it’s a poisonous snake, Jaebeom watches the video continue to play on his phone from across the sofa. It’s Jinyoung. Why is it Jinyoung. Jinyoung is practically in Nayeon’s lap now, gyrating- Jaebeom shrieks again to stop his train of thought. 

“I’m gonna kill them!” Jaebeom screams into the apartment, clutching at his hair.

Nora thrashes her tail in displeasure at him from the chair, but Jaebeom is too busy creeping closer to his phone like it’ll lash out and bite him. His eyes flit across the screen nervously as he reaches to pause it—Jinyoung’s bare back, the glint of sweat and jewellery at the back of his neck, his thighs practically bursting out of those pants, _not his ass_, Nayeon’s wildly delighted face, Jennie taking another video in the foreground… 

Okay, it’s paused. Jaebeom hastily closes the messaging app.

Then he reopens it. Spends three minutes deciding on what to send Youngjae in reply, the options being “Die.”, “You’re dead to me.”, or “I’m gonna kill you.” He finally settles on “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Then he cleans the entire kitchen. Then dusts the living room. He’s in too much of a tizzy to even _think _about being sad over the moving boxes scattered around the place. 

Hours later, Jinyoung is delivered back to him.

As soon as there’s a knock on the door, Jaebeom wrenches it open. On the other side, Jinyoung is propped up against Youngjae with Bambam steadying him on the other side, and a bright-eyed Lisa and Jennie bringing up the rear. Jaebeom is pleased to note Jinyoung has all his clothes back on, although his shirt appears to be inside out.

“You two-” Jaebeom starts, but is interrupted by Youngjae practically dumping Jinyoung into his arms, and he has to scramble to grab him by his waist to keep him upright.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung warbles, smiling up at Jaebeom from his shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Jaebeom can’t help but soften slightly at Jinyoung’s dumb face, but he refuses to crack a smile in front of the troublemakers still grinning at him from the hall.

“You’re a bad influence, both of you,” he grumbles over Jinyoung’s shoulder at Youngjae and Bambam. “What happened to taking care of him?”

“I think tonight has shown he can take care of himself,” Jennie says with a laugh. “A little too well. You’d better keep Nayeon satisfied Jaebeom, because she had a _very_ good time tonight.”

“It’s not our fault Jinyoung’s repressed. We did this for your sake Jaebeom,” Youngjae frowns playfully, “where’s our thanks?”

“_My _sake?” Jaebeom sputters, turning from where he was still gawping at Jennie.

“Yeah. Both of yours,” Youngjae says, like it’s obvious, face cracking into a deeply smug smile. “Good night!”

“Your days are numbered, you lot!” Jaebeom calls down the hall after them.

With a sweet little smile, Lisa waves, and Jaebeom forces his foul expression to clear to offer a polite, “Night Lisa,” and a nod. His arms are a little occupied with Jinyoung to wave back.

Grunting laboriously and stubbing his toe twice, Jaebeom manages to maneuver an unsteady Jinyoung into the apartment. Once they pass the kitchen, Jinyoung gets his feet under him and disentangles himself to totter down the hall to their rooms himself. With a fond sigh, Jaebeom watches him go, until Jinyoung goes into the wrong bedroom.

“Don’t lie down yet,” Jaebeom grumbles, when he gets to his bedroom to find Jinyoung lying face-down on his bed. “You need to change.”

As if Nora understands and is purposefully flouting his authority, she jumps onto the bed and sits in the dip of Jinyoung’s lower back.

Jinyoung turns his head to the side with a grin. “Oh no, I’m trapped. Bed time.”

With a huff, Jaebeom sits down next to them, resting a hand on Jinyoung’s head. As nerve-wracking as drunk Jinyoung can be, there’s something about his dumb boyish honesty that charms Jaebeom every time. It’s like being back when they were kids, but now Jaebeom has the sense and maturity to truly appreciate how cute Jinyoung can be.

Not wanting to disturb the silence so late at night, Jaebeom speaks quietly. “Did you have fun?” 

“Yes, but this is also fun.”

“What, lying on _my _bed in your outdoor clothes?” Jaebeom snorts.

“No I like…” Jinyoung trails off, losing his train of thought. “What if it was my engagement party. It feels like…”

“It felt like your engagement party?” Jaebeom asks, bewildered. Gently, he brushes Jinyoung’s hair away from his ears. “I don’t think they’d ask you to strip at your own bachelor’s party.”

“No,” Jinyoung grouses, pouting up at Jaebeom like what he said was obvious. “When they said they’d take care of me, and then they brought me home, here to you… like that.”

“I’m confused.”

“Just it… did Nayeon get home okay?”

“I… oh, I should check.” Jaebeom grabs his phone from the bedside table and sends a quick text to Nayeon asking just that.

“See. _My _engagement party,” Jinyoung says, sounding almost smug. “Afterwards you go to your partner and fight about it or re… reaffirm. And this is- ow. Nora’s kneading my butt.”

Jaebeom looks down, startled out of trying to decipher Jinyoung’s words. Sure enough, Nora is working away, focused on her task and mustering up a good purr. Seems fair. Jinyoung looks especially kneadable right there, especially in such tight jeans. Although Nora’s claws seem a little sharp, and Jaebeom winces. He should really give them a trim.

“Nora,” he chides quietly, standing to pick her up and deposit her outside the room.

Jinyoung’s got his face pressed right into the pillow when Jaebeom returns to sit beside him. 

“I miss Nora,” Jinyoung says into the pillow, voice muffled.

“She’s just in the hall, doofus,” Jaebeom says with a grin, carding his fingers through Jinyoung’s hair.

“No,” Jinyoung argues childishly, voice watery. When he turns his face outwards again, it’s already getting splotchy, eyes glistening with tears. “Stay with me hyung?”

Jaebeom frowns down at him playfully. “It’s _my_ room, where else would I go?”

On the bedside table, Jaebeom’s phone lights up, and he takes his hands away from Jinyoung to read Nayeon’s message.

_eheheheh yup I’m home_

Sending back a quick _good night_, Jaebeom glances down at Jinyoung, still looking pitifully up at him with fat tears running down his temples into his hair.

“You can sleep in here,” Jaebeom finally says softly. “You can get changed yourself though, I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung agrees, and Jaebeom leaves him to it. The night’s tensions have wound down, but Jaebeom doesn’t think he could handle having to undress Jinyoung after everything that happened.

Jaebeom half expects Jinyoung to be in the exact same position when he returns, maybe even with Nora allowed back into the room, but Jinyoung has obediently changed and tucked himself into bed. As a matter of fact, he’s fast asleep too, Jaebeom realizes when he slips under the covers beside Jinyoung.

Jaebeom watches Jinyoung sleep for a while, cataloguing each private detail. His chest rising and falling shallowly, soft mouth dropping open into gentle snores, splotchy red cheek squished into the pillow. It could easily be deeply unattractive on anyone else, Jaebeom thinks, but when it’s Jinyoung, it feels warm and familiar. Jaebeom falls asleep cradled in that feeling.

The next morning, Jaebeom’s already eaten breakfast by the time Jinyoung wanders blearily into the living room. He’s still in the clothes he slept in, Jaebeom’s university sweatshirt and an old pair of sweatpants, and his hair has only been partially brushed.

“Morning,” Jaebeom calls with an amused grin, finishing his coffee on the sofa. 

Nora pads over to wind herself between Jinyoung’s legs, but luckily he’s awake enough not to trip and fall or worse, step on her. 

“Morning,” Jinyoung grumbles as he slumps onto the sofa beside Jaebeom, smelling of toothpaste. Leaning into Jaebeom’s side, Jinyoung points to Jaebeom’s coffee and looks up at him with wide eyes and a noise of interest.

Wordlessly, Jaebeom hands his half-drunk cup of coffee over to Jinyoung, who takes a long sip of it.

“Did I say anything weird last night?” Jinyoung asks finally, staring ahead at the blank television screen.

“_Say? _No, you didn’t _say_ anything particularly weird.” Jaebeom pauses to coax Nora up onto the sofa, where she crams herself into the dip where Jaebeom’s thigh touches Jinyoung’s. “Just the usual drunken Jinyoung babbling.”

Jinyoung grimaces, finally turning to give Jaebeom an unimpressed look. “Thanks.”

They sit quietly for a moment. Jinyoung finishes the coffee and goes into the kitchen, coming back with a second cup for himself and Jaebeom’s refilled. With a sigh, he puts the cups on the table and sits heavily in the chair across from Jaebeom.

“You’re just concerned about what you _said_, though?” Jaebeom asks, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Not if you _did _anything weird?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widen comedically, suddenly brutally awake, and he gapes at Jaebeom for a beat before groaning. “Oh god, you know?”

“Jinyoung, I was sent several videos of the incident,” Jaebeom says levelly.

“Oh hyung, I’m so sorry…” Jinyoung’s wringing his hands so fervently his knuckles are white. “Are you angry?”

“Wh-” Jaebeom pauses to consider. “Am I angry? About you giving Nayeon a lapdance and taking your clothes off for her?”

“Hyung, you know, you _know _I’m not interested in Nayeon,” Jinyoung protests desperately, “and she’s not interested in me like that, it was just-”

“Jinyoung, Jinyoung, relax.” Jaebeom reaches over to squeeze Jinyoung’s knee reassuringly. He quickly retracts his hand when the touch reminds him again of the muscle under Jinyoung’s clothes, the sight of them straining under denim from last night. “If I am angry, it’s not because I’m… threatened, or, or jealous. Are _you _angry?”

“At who?”

“You know… at Bambam and Youngjae. I know I am!”

“It’s not their fault, I shouldn’t have had so much to drink,” Jinyoung says bashfully, slumping back in his chair. “Although to be fair, you know me. It doesn’t take a great deal of alcohol to get me that far gone.”

“...You didn’t take your pants off too, did you?”

“Oh no, no! I didn’t have that much coordination at that point, it wouldn’t have been very sexy. You know, Jennie…” Jinyoung trails off guiltily before continuing, twiddling his fingers together, “Jennie kept saying she feels better about the wedding now. Like that… even if Nayeon isn’t pleased with you…”

“Oh, what, you’d be right there to keep her satisfied?” Jaebeom says, mind going back to what Jennie had said last night.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell Jennie how utterly uninterested I am in having an affair with Nayeon,” Jinyoung says with a laugh, reaching forward to pick up his coffee and take a sip.

“You’re not exactly the homewrecking type.”

“No,” Jinyoung says solemnly over the lip of his coffee cup. “Not even for you.”

“I don’t think you’d be doing _me _any favours having an affair with _my _wife,” Jaebeom scoffs.

Jinyoung gives Jaebeom a tight smile, looking tired again as he stands to wander into the kitchen again. “Jennie would disagree,” he says as he goes, tone teasing, yet somewhat subdued. 

It’s not worth giving another thought, yet Jaebeom lingers on it, left alone with Nora on the sofa. He’s known for being quite possessive in romantic relationships, even friendships. Yet the idea of Jinyoung having an affair with Nayeon… it doesn’t anger him. If anything, it elicits some small positive reaction deep within Jaebeom. Akin to the overpowering feeling of gratitude when Jinyoung and Nayeon so readily befriended each other. Perhaps it’s something residual from that gratitude.

But it’s not just that, is it? Jaebeom’s cheeks feel hot at the idea of Jinyoung together with Nayeon, the same fascinated horror as he felt seeing Jinyoung gyrating his hips in Nayeon’s lap. The thought of their bodies together, of seeing Jinyoung active… like that. Powerful, strong, but it’s Jinyoung, so it’s soft, he’s gentle. Jaebeom realizes he’s not even thinking about Nayeon now. 

He used to have these thoughts in high school, watching porn and accidentally looking at the man, not the woman. The shame doesn’t burn as hot now, but races cold as a bucket of ice water down Jaebeom’s spine that he’s having these thoughts about Jinyoung. So he unearths an old habit from high school, and takes these things that make him uncomfortable, things he doesn’t want to linger on, and puts them away where he doesn’t have to think about them. Another part of Jaebeom’s life boxed up. 

Then he drinks his coffee, and tries not to think about it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some very... slow... progress....
> 
> Next chapter, the bachelor's party, and Sylphide opens! Thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying!!


	5. (Early) April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For April, I planned early on to split it into April 1 & April 2 for length, so this is early April, and Believe. I feel like this chapter is a bit angsty and tearful for Believe, but I tried to make it work! Bachelor “party”, some unboxing, and Sylphide’s short run fall within this chapter! 
> 
> Also I bit the bullet & switched the spelling to “Jaebeom”!! I went back & word-replaced all the previous chapters (there are no other changes to previous chapters) but I’m still getting used to it so if you see a stray “Jaebum”… that’s on me

Spring seems to finally come in April. The year had been unseasonably cold so far, though April isn’t much different so far. As much as flowers have begun to bloom, Jaebeom’s heart lightened by the bright yellow forsythia he passes on his way to work, it’s still been raining, damp and cold every other day. 

Along with the flowers blooming, Jaebeom and Jinyoung’s elderly neighbour has been giving them plants for their balcony, the surest sign of warmer weather coming. Jaebeom doesn’t have the heart to tell her he’s moving out, and it looks like Jinyoung hasn’t told her either.

The plan is to move in May, after the wedding. Jaebeom will move in with Nayeon while they search for a proper place to live together. Jinyoung has been suggesting they take some boxes over now, to adjust slowly, like he thinks Jaebeom _wants_ to leave him and is impatient to be with Nayeon.

Jaebeom’s bedroom is mostly packed away now, boxes neatly stacked out of the way but never out of mind. It was, comparatively, the easiest room to sort out.

There are too many things in the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen that belong to both of them now. The plates and bowls they use are a set, given to them by Jaebeom’s mother. Of course Nayeon has plates, bowls, an entire well-equipped kitchen. It’s difficult to think logically about these things. Jaebeom doesn’t want Nayeon’s dishware. He wants his own, but his own is also Jinyoung’s. 

They used to have multiple copies of the same books, until they moved in together and donated the doubles to save space. It feels cruel to pick and choose which books were Jaebeom’s originally and which ones were Jinyoung’s. It would be like tearing pages out and breaking the spines, to equally distribute the books would be to destroy them.

But like Mark promised, Jaebeom doesn’t have to do it alone. Or worse, alone with Jinyoung. A couple days before _Sylphide_ opens, when Jinyoung is free, Jaebeom’s side of the wedding party descends upon their apartment in some semblance of a bachelor’s party.

“This is the dumbest idea for a bachelor party I’ve ever heard,” Bambam announces as soon as he’s taken his shoes off and made sure Mark hasn’t arrived yet. 

“Say that to Mark’s face if you’re so brave,” Jinyoung calls from the kitchen where he’s getting drinks for Jackson and Hyunwoo. 

And by drinks, Jaebeom means tea. To ensure the survival of their apartment, he will be enforcing a one-beer-per-person policy. With the exception of zero-beer-per-Jinyoung, to avoid any partially naked situations repeating themselves. Jinyoung had no objections when Jaebeom suggested the idea.

The others arrive with less compliant than Bambam, last of all Mark, who has hurried conversation in the front hall with Jaebeom.

“Made it, huh?” Mark greets under his breath as he pulls his shoes off, like he doesn’t want them overheard.

“Uh, I live here?”

“No, dummy, I mean you made it as far as the bachelor’s party,” Mark says with a grin, still keeping his voice low. “Just remember, if it ever gets too much, you can just take a step back. I’m sure none of us want this to be… difficult for you. More difficult than it already is, anyway.”

“Mark, relax, it’ll be fine,” Jaebeom mutters dismissively, not wanting to admit how true Mark’s words are. It _is_ difficult. Jaebeom desperately wants to return to the days when he didn’t feel like an open wound, with every passing comment pressing against bruised and tender skin. He’s been so sensitive recently, he just wants the wedding over with so it can all end.

The first hour or so passes relatively smoothly. Over the past few months, Jackson has fit himself neatly into the little mosaic of Jinyoung and Jaebeom’s friends, and into the wedding party as a whole. The group congregates in the living room, going through the bookshelves or “supervising” from the sofa.

There’s a heart-stopping discovery of Jaebeom’s old high school journals stuffed at the back of one of the bookshelves, but the issue is quickly dealt with by Jinyoung sitting on them to prevent any prying eyes from taking a peek. Besides Jaebeom’s transparent avoidance tactic of sorting books into a “to go through later” pile, he thinks things are going well.

That is until he’s with Daehyun and Yongguk in the spare room. They’re looking for extra boxes, but what Daehyun finds is the painting of his that Jaebeom bought, from way back in December. For a moment Jaebeom doesn’t even notice Daehyun has paused his search, standing stock still.

But when Jaebeom and Yongguk look over, they find an odd sort of expression on Daehyun’s face.

“This is…” Daehyun blinks, speechless for a moment. “You’re the one that bought this painting?”

“...yes?” Jaebeom answers, wary of Daehyun’s stormy expression. “Is that… a problem?”

“No,” Daehyun bites back like it _is _a problem, jamming the painting back where he found it and shrugging sharply. “Of course not, why would it be a problem? I need to use the washroom.”

Jaebeom and Yongguk watch Daehyun hurry out of the room in silence before glancing at each other.

“I’ll go,” Jaebeom says quietly, stopping Yongguk when he makes to follow Daehyun. As much as he wants to comfort his friend, Jaebeom also badly wants to know what’s wrong. Had he overstepped some boundary? And a little selfishly, Jaebeom feels refreshed by the variety in interpersonal conflicts. The wedding stuff was getting a bit old.

When he gets to the bathroom, Daehyun is sitting on the floor with his back against the bathtub, eyes closed and arms crossed loosely. He cracks an eye open when Jaebeom comes in. 

“What if I really was using the washroom?” Daehyun grumbles.

Stiffly, Jaebeom lowers himself down beside Daehyun. “This brings back memories from high school, huh? Lurking in bathrooms.”

“Oh please,” Daehyun scoffs, “none of the parties we went to were at places as nice as this. You would’ve gotten robbed.”

“What’s up?” Jaebeom cuts to the chase. “You want the painting back?”

“No! God, anything but that. It’s just…” Daehyun sighs, tipping his head back against the tub. “That piece was the highest seller. Nothing else was bid on anywhere near what you offered. Sorry. I’m grateful, it’s just…”

“You wish it wasn’t _me_ that bought it.”

“Yeah.” Daehyun pauses. “I really… I can’t help but get jealous of you, sometimes. Like maybe if I’d wised up in high school I could be where you are. A proper job, getting married… with enough disposable income to blow on shitty paintings.”

“Hey! Insult yourself all you like, but my taste in art is _not _shitty.” Jaebeom takes a breath, considering his next words. “And I… wouldn’t waste too much time being jealous of what I have. At least you can say you earned what you have. You worked for it. My job is my father’s. My wedding… ah. I can’t say I earned that either. It might sound condescending, but I get jealous of you too sometimes. You had a _gallery show_, Daehyun. Even if you’re struggling, you’re creating.”

“If you don’t mind struggling to create, why don’t you just quit your job?” Daehyun counters, smiling teasingly.

Because it’s not that easy, Jaebeom wants to say. Because there’s expectations, caught around Jaebeom like a spider’s web, and he’s come too far to falter now. “It’s a bit selfish to do that to Nayeon, don’t you think?”

“Shouldn’t a marriage be about supporting each other, for richer or poorer? You think Nayeon wouldn’t stick by you?” Daehyun shrugs. “Jinyoung would.”

“Jinyoung?? What…? I’m not marrying _Jinyoung_, am I?”

“I don’t know why not,” Daehyun mutters under his breath, like he didn’t mean for Jaebeom to hear it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaebeom barely manages to keep the snarl from his voice, not sure why that got his hackles up. Daehyun is just messing around, like their friends always do. But again, Jaebeom’s been feeling defensive and tender lately.

“I just mean…” Daehyun says levelly, pausing to gather his words, “that Jinyoung’s who you’ve been sharing your life with so far. You don’t exactly have the best track record for stable romantic relationships that I can use as examples. Jinyoung is the closest thing you’ve ever had to what you’re _gonna _have with Nayeon.”

“I have a great track record,” Jaebeom mumbles petulantly, rather than consider what Daehyun said.

“Don’t take this the wrong way Jaebeom,” Daehyun says slowly, “but I think you’re just being stupid. This is _your_ life. In the immortal words of Bon Jovi, it’s now or never. You’re not fucking ninety! You’re acting so fatalistic, like it’s all too late for you. It’s not. If you wanna make art, make art! If you don’t wanna get married, don’t get married. If you wanna quit your job, quit your job!”

“Who said I didn’t want to get married?” Jaebeom challenges. 

Turning to face Jaebeom, Daehyun fixes him with a stern but unimpressed look. “Here’s the thing Jaebeom. You think you’re like some mysterious, stone-cold fortress keeping your emotions locked away. Maybe you were once, but you’ve gone soft. You’re fucking transparent.”

Jaebum grunts irritably, looking childishly away.

“Ah well, don’t let me tell you what to do,” Daehyun says with a grin, clapping Jaebeom on the back and making to stand up. When he’s on his feet, he offers a hand to help Jaebeom, and holds on for a moment to fix him with a sober look. “Sorry about earlier. Thanks. About the painting. I’m glad you like it.”

With a nod, Jaebeom lets the irate feelings churning inside him drift away. “I do. And it’s worth as much as I bid, so don’t let me hear you complaining about it again,” Jaebeom adds gruffly, shoving Daehyun out the door into the hall.

As Daehyun moves to find Yongguk with one last exasperated glance in his direction, Jaebeom wanders towards the kitchen. It’s blessedly empty besides Jackson, leaning against the counter and sipping his first and last can of beer. Jaebeom quickly casts his eyes over the remaining beer cans. Looks like people are adhering to the one beer rule, at least so far.

“Hey,” Jackson greets him with a friendly smile. He taps one of the beer cans with his finger. “You had your quota yet?”

“No, thank god,” Jaebeom groans, cracking one open. “I really need it now.”

They sip their beer in companionable silence for a while, only broken every so often by the sound of laughter or loud chatter from the living room.

“Did you and Jinyoung ever date?” Jackson asks suddenly, peering contemplatively at Jaebeom over the top of his beer.

Jaebeom blinks. “Date?”

“Like, each other.”

“What? No! I’m not even-” Jaebeom swallows his words, not sure what he was trying to say. “Did Jinyoung tell you that?”

Jackson snorts derisively, taking another thoughtful sip of beer. “‘Course not. Jinyoung never voluntarily tells me anything.”

“Then… what gave you that idea?” Jaebeom sets his beer down on the counter and rests his hands there, trying not to clench them into fists. For some reason his heart quivers fast in his chest, nervous and adrenaline-spiked, like he could choke on it. Jackson’s posture is relaxed and his tone is as non-confrontational as ever, but Jaebeom feels like a cornered rabbit.

“I don’t know just…” Jackson shrugs, “the way you guys are. Just got that vibe. I don’t know.”

“We’re friends,” Jaebeom replies, trying to keep his voice steady. It still comes out tense, too emphatic. He takes a steadying breath. “We’re… close. We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Close, right,” Jackson repeats, eyes narrowing for a moment before his expression clears. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Does it make you uncomfortable? The thought of dating Jinyoung?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought that thought before,” Jaebeom responds immediately, fixing his eyes on his hands bracketing his half-empty can.

Jackson is silent, letting Jaebeom’s thoughts run wild. And of course, given the opportunity, Jaebeom’s thinking about it now. Dating Jinyoung. And it doesn’t make him uncomfortable. Not at all. 

Besides the nervous fluttering of his heart like a hummingbird trapped in his chest, the thought is almost… comforting. Jaebeom boxes out everything else and imagines staying here in this apartment with Jinyoung, that they so painstakingly chose for themselves. Of living together like this forever. And it doesn’t make Jaebeom uncomfortable.

Even the thought of others knowing, it brings Jaebeom pride. That Jackson, who he met so recently, looks at them and sees they fit together. And they do fit together. Too well, that it hurts so much to have to pull their shared life apart into two.

The fantasy breaks at his parents. He’s not sure about his step-father, and his mother, although he knows she wants grandkids. But his father. That would never be acceptable. Not a man. And certainly not Jinyoung.

And the fantasy breaks at Nayeon. It’s a nice idea, but it’s too late now. More than _nice_, suddenly Jaebeom aches with the unrealized potential. But now it’s just another regret to add to the pile. 

“It’s alright Jackson, I don’t mind,” Jaebeom answers finally, voice low and tired. “I was just surprised.”

“_I’m_ surprised nobody’s ever thought that before. You guys are just really…” Jackson trails off pensively, before looking up at Jaebeom guiltily, like he was lost in thought. “Sorry. You just seem really… like you said, close, you know?”

“We… are. Jinyoung and I have been through a lot together,” Jaebeom replies slowly, and Jinyoung’s name feels different in his mouth now, rare and sweet. _Jinyoung and I_.

“Yeah,” Jackson says, smiling. “You really seem to balance each other out. It’s nice to see. I hope that isn’t weird to say.”

“I mean…” Jaebeom pauses, letting Jackson’s words sink in. They make him feel strangely full to the brim with unnameable emotion. 

When Jinyoung had first introduced them, Jackson hadn’t struck Jaebeom as a particularly perceptive person, but everything he’s said today seeps through into Jaebeom’s heart. Like he’s bringing every secret thought Jaebeom has ever had about his relationship with Jinyoung out into the light, and examining it. Somehow it doesn’t feel bad. Jaebeom relishes the feeling of validation it brings, and tries to push the hollow weight of regret out of his mind.

They are close. The wedding has been doing something weird to them, and this revelation sits atop a pile of regrets as the heaviest stone of all, and yet… they _are _close. Jaebeom resolves to not let the wedding change that. Whatever else they might have had, Jinyoung is Jaebeom’s closest and dearest friend, and he won’t let the weight of new regrets pull him away.

Finally, Jaebeom settles on an easy grin to match Jackson’s. “No offence, but you haven’t exactly set a precedent of non-weirdness anyway.”

“Wow, rude!” Jackson squawks loudly, drawing the attention of Bambam and Mark, who pop their heads in the door curiously, and like that, the conversation is over. But not forgotten. Jaebeom lets the idea tumble around in his head, a funny little fantasy, impossible and faraway. It warms him all the same.

They don’t get much more packing done, but Jaebeom is grateful for his friends, despite the moments of tension. Perhaps it’s getting easier, he thinks. This is what it means to grow up, properly. He’s getting accustomed to the idea of getting married, of becoming Nayeon’s husband. Just in time, too.

After a dinner of greasy take-out food, and carefully portioned frozen meals for Jinyoung and Jackson, people begin to trickle out, until finally Jaebeom is closing the door behind a jovial Bambam and Mark. Suddenly, he’s exhausted from all the socialization.

“Letting all of them into the apartment at once was a mistake,” Jaebeom grumbles, throwing himself down onto the sofa with a great sigh. “Thank god for minimal alcohol at least.”

When Jinyoung doesn’t respond, Jaebeom raises his head to see Jinyoung sitting on the floor by the bookcase, looking pensively through a small pile of photos. Jaebeom’s journals they found earlier sit on his lap, and Jaebeom’s heart lurches nervously. He trusts Jinyoung not to look, but there’s some nasty shit in there, and the thought of Jinyoung even being in such close proximity to Jaebeom’s hateful teenage ranting makes him uncomfortable. 

“What’re those?” Jaebeom asks him. A couple boxes of photos had made it into the “to go through later” pile, and Jinyoung has cracked one open.

“They’re pictures from graduation and prom.” Jinyoung doesn’t look up from the photos, holding a few at once, face solemn. “I… I think your mom sorted them all together when we moved here. The pictures from that… anti-prom thing you went to are here too, and anti-graduation or whatever it was.” 

“Ugh, yeah,” Jaebeom grunts in embarrassment, lying back down and turning his head to watch Jinyoung. Eighteen-year-old Jaebeom was anti- a good many things.

“Do you…” Jinyoung starts quietly, trailing off.

“Yeah?”

“Do you regret not dropping out of high school? With Youngjae?”

Sitting up again, Jaebeom fixes Jinyoung with a confused look. Jinyoung isn’t meeting his gaze, head tipped down further now, like he’s ashamed to ask, about to rescind the question any second now.

“What do you mean?” Jaebeom asks slowly.

“I mean…” Jinyoung’s voice sounds unsteady, hands tense where they’re holding the photos, crinkling them at the edges. “Just, Youngjae always says that it’s my fault you stayed in school.”

Standing stiffly, Jaebeom makes his way over to Jinyoung and sits down on the floor beside him. Slowly he tilts Jinyoung’s hands to see the photos. 

There’s a stark difference between the ones with Jinyoung in them and the ones with Jaebeom. Neatly put together, in a well-lit gymnasium, Jinyoung smiles his awkward little close-mouthed smile at the camera, sitting in a fold-out chair in his black graduation robe. The cap makes his ears stick out even more, and he’s holding up his rolled high school diploma in one hand. Another diploma rests in his lap, tucked safely under his other arm. Jaebeom’s. The picture of Jaebeom is from a party that same night, blurry and dimly lit by someone’s porch light at night. He’s laughing open-mouthed and probably loudly, eyes squeezed shut, arm around an equally jovial Youngjae.

Jaebeom doesn’t even want to see the prom pictures. Even all this time later, he remembers the devastated expression on Jinyoung’s face when Jaebeom had told him he wasn’t going. Jinyoung had already bought a ticket, and had clearly been desperate to make one last high school memory with Jaebeom in his fancy little tux and glittery bowtie. The fact the Jinyoung never pettily brought it up to taunt Jaebeom shows how much it must have truly hurt him.

“He just said something today, about how… that if you had gotten your way and dropped out you would have been running his tattoo place with him. I mean, he’s said it before, but I was just thinking… all your stress at work lately,” Jinyoung says softly.

Jaebeom snorts, and Jinyoung’s eyebrows pinch together, making him regret the reaction. Taking the pictures out of Jinyoung’s hands, Jaebeom holds his wrist, rubbing a comforting thumb over the knob of bone there. Silent tears begin to roll down Jinyoung’s cheeks.

“Jinyoung… Have you really thought this whole time that I regretted it?”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung says, voice thick. His face is getting splotchy and red, and every infrequent breath he takes seems to be a struggle. “I mean… If you had dropped out, you would have a job you love now. Your whole life could be different. But at the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. It seemed best for you to graduate high school. And maybe… I didn’t want you to leave me there alone. I never thought at the time that it was so selfish-”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom interrupts before Jinyoung spirals too far. “Jinyoung, come on, let’s get ready for bed,” he says, pulling Jinyoung to his feet, letting the journals and photos slip into a messy pile on the floor.

Without another word, Jinyoung lets himself be guided down the hall to the bathroom, sniffling. 

“Blow your nose,” Jaebeom says, handing Jinyoung a tissue, and then his toothbrush, “and clean your teeth.”

Sighing, Jaebeom sits on the edge of the bathtub and watches as Jinyoung obeys, until halfway through brushing, tears start running down Jinyoung’s face again.

“Jinyoung…” Jaebeom reaches out touches Jinyoung’s thigh where he can reach. “I… Look, you shouldn’t listen to Youngjae about stuff like this. You know he had his own motives. Of course he’d think me dropping out would be better. At the end of the day, _I’m _the one who made the decision, not either of you.”

“So you _do _regret it?” Jinyoung asks around his toothbrush, voice high and wavering.

“Honestly? I’ve never thought about it until you mentioned it just now.” Jaebeom squeezes Jinyoung’s thigh, hoping the touch comforts him as much as it comforts Jaebeom. “And I don’t think I do. Do I miss doing art? Yeah. But I still get to sometimes… and I’m not _unhappy_. I think it’s way too optimistic to say I’d be working at Youngjae’s place if I had dropped out.”

“Founding partner,” Jinyoung mumbles.

“Whatever,” Jaebeom says with a small laugh, relieved Jinyoung’s tears have stopped. “God Jinyoung, you know how I was as a teenager. I made shitty decisions, constantly. I was angry all the time. If I dropped out, I would have lost… I would have lost the two people who kept me grounded.”

Jinyoung looks at him in confusion, toothpaste dribbling down his chin.

“Would you spit that out, you’re gonna swallow the lot at this rate,” Jaebeom nags, waving a finger at the sink. 

After Jinyoung rinses his mouth out and comes to sit beside Jaebeom on the bathtub’s edge, Jaebeom continues. “I actually- I actually think I did resent you for it at first. That you convinced me to stay. But it wasn’t really _you _I resented. Not that I was emotionally mature enough to realize, at the time. I guess it was… the power you held over me. It was easy to blame you and act like it was your fault I was forced to stay, but you didn’t force me to do anything. I didn’t want to leave you either.”

Jinyoung stays silent, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“If I had dropped out I would have been too ashamed to… I probably would have cut off contact with you, with my mom,” Jaebeom’s voice wavers at the thought. “That would have been the worst thing I could’ve done. Especially back then.”

Glancing at Jaebeom almost shyly, Jinyoung leans over to tuck his head into Jaebeom’s neck, resting on his shoulder. “Really hyung?”

“Of course,” Jaebeom says, blinking rapidly to stave off his own tears, moving his chin atop Jinyoung’s head and his arm around Jinyoung’s waist to stabilize them. “There are things I regret, but staying with… staying with you in school is certainly not one of them. I’m sorry it’s been weighing on you this whole time. I had no idea… I don’t think Youngjae realizes how you take these things to heart, after all these years.”

“My tummy hurts,” Jinyoung mumbles after a pause, curling further into Jaebeom’s side.

“Hey that’s my line.”

“Why, is yours bothering you?” Jinyoung pulls back to level Jaebeom a deeply concerned look. “Do I need to vacate the premises?”

“Oh shut up,” Jaebeom grumbles, already grinning. He pats Jinyoung on the butt. “Come on, up. It’s time for bed.”

“Thank you hyung,” Jinyoung says instead of getting up, turning to fix Jaebeom with a wide-eyed earnest look. His lashes are wet from his tears, and his face is still a little splotchy, but he’s so close, and Jaebeom can’t help thinking how pretty Jinyoung really is. “I’m… Thank you for telling me how you felt. How you feel. I was always worried… I’m happy.”

Then he reaches around Jaebeom’s shoulders for a hug, and Jaebeom automatically matches him, wrapping his arms around Jinyoung’s waist again, a little awkwardly where they’re perched on the bathtub’s edge.

“Goodnight hyung,” Jinyoung says softly before releasing Jaebeom and slipping out of the bathroom. 

When Jaebeom finishes in the bathroom, he enters his room to find Jinyoung asleep there. Carefully, Jaebeom changes into his sleep clothes, keeping a watchful eye on Jinyoung, in case he should wake. Like he hasn’t seen everything Jaebeom has to offer a thousand times before.

Then, like he did after Nayeon’s bachelorette party, Jaebeom climbs into bed and tucks himself in next to Jinyoung. It’s been happening a lot lately, Jinyoung falling asleep in his bed, but Jaebeom is grateful for the familiar presence. He lies on his side to watch Jinyoung like he did that night too, the brush of his eyelashes against the sweet swell of his cheek, how the fat under his chin folds as his mouth drops open in a light snore.

Jaebeom wants to gather Jinyoung in his arms and cling tightly forever, like a child selfishly hogs their favourite toy and refuses to return to their studies. He thinks about what he learned today, the thoughts still casting about his head like shadows. He thinks about a life where he could shuffle closer and press a kiss to Jinyoung’s round cheek. Jaebeom’s lips itch, as if anticipating the action. But it’s an action he’ll never take. A line he can’t cross, or he’ll get too greedy, want too much of Jinyoung. 

But the secret thought glows within Jaebeom like a pearl, embers of a fire that has been burning if he had only paid closer attention. If only this moment could stretch on forever, the world outside their apartment falling away to leave Jaebeom with Jinyoung only, and Nora singing her nighttime ballads from the kitchen.

_I’ll miss you_, Jaebeom wants to say. It burns in his throat, making his tongue tingle with possibility. The words feel like a physical weight pulling his heart down through his ribcage. Tears prick at his eyes, and Jaebeom’s glad Jinyoung is already fast asleep. 

_Please let me stay_, Jaebeom wants to beg. He doesn’t know who has the power to let him stay. Who could he plead to? Nayeon? Jinyoung? His father? Himself? Jaebeom rolls onto his back to stare up towards the ceiling, trying to hold back tears as he sends the thought up and out into the universe. Whoever has the power to let him stay here forever. _Please_.

Yet nothing happens, so Jaebeom falls fitfully asleep, the hair at his temples wet from his tears. The next morning, he tidies up the mess of half-sorted boxes in the living room, and thinks about how it would feel to kiss the prickly shadow of Jinyoung’s morning stubble. 

And a few days later, _La Sylphide_ opens. 

Jaebeom sees every performance. He doesn’t tell anyone, not even Jinyoung. Usually he’ll try to see a production Jinyoung is in at least twice, but he’s never made a point of seeing every single matinee and evening performance. It feels like penance, self flagellation, punishment. Like it’s something he must witness to absolve him of sin, no matter how much it hurts him.

Each show, the yearning kiss that the Sylphide offers James, that Jinyoung offers Jackson, sears Jaebeom. The emotion on Jinyoung’s face is so raw it forces the same feeling to bubble up in Jaebeom’s throat. 

Each show, Jinyoung’s anguished face as his character dies is branded into Jaebeom’s mind. Caught across the waist by the cursed strip of white fabric, Jinyoung reaches out, out, chest heaving, eyes wild with fear. Behind him, Jackson’s fists are tangled in the ends of the fabric, pulling it taut with a playful grin. Jinyoung’s character knows he is dead, trapped in the loop of fabric, but his lover does not yet realize he has killed him. 

Each show, Jaebeom is struck by Jinyoung’s beauty. The emotion he moves. How can it be real? Jaebeom has always admired Jinyoung’s skill onstage, but something feels different this time. The man on stage is no longer Jaebeom’s best friend, someone he can meet after the show and shower with praise, watch him smile until his cheeks crease and he hides his face bashfully in Jaebeom’s shoulder. No, the man on stage is as untouchable, as distant and intangible as the Sylphide is to James.

Why can’t they be happy? Jackson’s horrified tears when his character realizes what he’s done pierce Jaebeom’s heart. 

The last show is in the evening, and only a day separates it from the wedding. The next afternoon, they will drive up to the villa where the wedding will be. The afternoon after that, Jaebeom will be married. 

Jaebeom goes with Nayeon, Jisoo, and Mark. They sit in Jaebeom’s regular box, and like every show, when Jinyoung reaches out desperately in the throes of death, it feels like he’s reaching for Jaebeom. For his help.

It feels worse than all the others. The run of _La Sylphide_ had been like Jaebeom’s last meal, and now he is on the last few grains of rice. With Mark and Jisoo sitting in front, only Nayeon sees Jaebeom’s cheeks wet with tears. Pinching her eyebrows together in worry, she puts a comforting hand on his forearm. She says nothing, but the concern doesn’t leave her face.

Jaebeom leaves after the final curtain. When he gets home, he locks his bedroom door, and pretends to be asleep when Jinyoung gets home later and knocks, asking if he’s alright. He just can’t bear to see Jinyoung. Not now. Not when his face is still wet with tears and his sinuses ache from holding back sobs. 

The last grains of rice have been eaten, and now Jaebeom is looking up the stairs to the gallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry about the long waits in between chapters, I know it can be annoying to remember what’s happening with the fic. Hopefully I will be able to get the next chapter done in a more timely manner! And next chapter… the Wedding! will they go through with it? we shall see (:<


	6. (Late) April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I’m so sorry for the long wait, but here we go! I am posting this from a family member’s computer at great risk to my peace of mind, so ! Also I hope there aren’t too many typos, I’ve done a few edits but I’ve been working on this practically every day and I just can’t bear to look at it a moment longer
> 
> Our song for this chapter is of course Page, ending the album and this story! Don’t feel too trepidatious, remember the happy ending tag! I hope you enjoy!

The dawn of his wedding day finds Jaebeom far away from the villa and the pavilion, in a gazebo with his mother. 

Nayeon ordered him out of their shared room in the rented villa before the sun rose, to start getting ready, so Jaebeom had begun to explore the grounds, hoping the beautiful landscapes would keep his mind clear. Avoiding the wedding pavilion complete with wisteria hanging in neatly ordered boughs from above, Jaebeom wanders to the wilder edges of the grounds.

He sits in the gazebo he finds overlooking a small pond, and watches the sun streak the grey clouds white. The whole sky is full of heavy clouds, and inexplicably Jaebeom remembers Jinyoung’s worries the day he learned of Jaebeom’s upcoming nuptials. April showers. The day is damp, but the heavens haven’t broken open just yet.

Before Jaebeom can think too hard on the state of the weather, his mother joins him. He doesn’t hear her until her sensible heels click against the pale wood of the gazebo floor. Without saying anything, she sits down beside him.

“You know,” she says after several minutes pass in silence, “for a long time I never thought I would see this day.”

Jaebeom turns to look at her, and finds she’s already dressed for the ceremony. Her dress is a deep purple, trying to match the theme colours, hair done up prettily.

“Eomma, you look beautiful.”

Smiling indulgently in thanks, she links her arms with Jaebeom’s. “I’m so proud of you. I was worried I would never see you happily married. Nayeon is such a sweet girl.”

Nodding automatically, Jaebeom stay silent. 

“Your father was looking for you,” his mother says suddenly, and Jaebeom can tell which man she means based on her clipped tone of voice. “He wants to give you his wedding gift before the ceremony.”

Wincing, Jaebeom casts his gaze out across the still pond, trying to draw some inner peace from its calmness. “Do you know what it is?”

“A promotion.”

Mind awash with nervous energy, Jaebeom stands. “He wants… to promote me? To… what?”

“You know he wants you to take over the company one day,” she says with a purse of her lips. It’s how she usually looks when talking about Jaebeom’s father, so he barely pays it any attention now, his mind reeling. Expression smoothing, Jaebeom’s mother brightens up with a hopeful smile. “You can’t stay in a minor position forever Jaebeom, not if you want to start a family!”

Jaebeom feels sick to his stomach. “I don’t _want_ to start a family,” he blurts out petulantly before he can stop himself.

His mother looks hurt, face falling, but not exactly surprised. After a pause, she offers him a strained smile. “Of course not right away, but someday… You know how much Nayeon loves children. And Jinyoung…”

“What does _Jinyoung_ have to do with anything?” Jaebeom cries, mind racing wildly as his mother reminds him of weight after weight bearing down upon him.

“I just… you have a good support system for a young family. Jinyoungie won’t be having children of his own, so-”

“How do you know that?”

“Stop interrupting,” Jaebeom’s mother chides finally, frowning at his display of temper. “I just mean… you know how he is. And that’s what he always tells me when I ask.”

As if Jaebeom’s mind is a speeding train, it screeches to a confused halt. “That he doesn’t want children?”

“He…” she hesitates, as if divulging a secret. Jaebeom didn’t realize his own mother and Jinyoung had secrets between them he wasn’t a part of. “He says having children of his own isn’t in the cards for him, that’s all. That he’ll have to settle for being the favourite uncle of your children.”

Blinking in confusion, Jaebeom turns back towards the pond, away from his mother. He hadn’t realized more than his mother’s hopes and dreams rely on him having children. Why can’t Jinyoung go have kids himself if he loves them so much? The thought is deeply disquieting, but it’s curious that Jinyoung apparently doesn’t consider it an option. 

And what had his mother meant “you know how he is”? Fussy? A chronic bachelor? Gay, even? Although the exact nature of Jinyoung’s sexuality continues to escape Jaebeom, even Jinyoung must know he gives off certain… vibes. Vibes that a concerned mother-adjacent figure would pick up on but tactfully avoid mentioning outright.

Mistaking Jaebeom’s silence for sullenness, his mother sets the conversation back on track.

“Jaebeom,” she says solemnly, “you know your father won’t allow you to remain in your current position forever. He has plans for your… career in the company.”

“What do you think I should do?” Jaebeom asks meekly, ashamed of raising his voice earlier.

“You know best what’s right for you,” she says, standing and taking Jaebeom into her arms. He has to fold himself down for her to reach, and he wonders when she got so small. “When you were younger I used to think having a respectable, well-paying job was the most important. But I don’t want to see you miserable either.”

“What if what’s right for me makes other people unhappy? People I care about.”

“What kind of thing are we talking about here?”

“I can’t keep working there,” Jaebeom admits, and as tense as it makes his chest feel to say it, a weight has been lifted off him all the same. “I’m not… _un_happy in my current position. But anything else… I just don’t think I’d survive it. I can’t do it.”

When Jaebeom pulls back to gauge his mother’s reaction, he finds she looks pleased, but like she’s trying to hide it.

“If that’s what you want, Jaebeom, I’ll support you,” she says, smoothing out her expression. “Even if it means I have to wait a couple years longer for grandchildren! I know you’ll be a better husband to Nayeon if your work life doesn’t steal all the joy of your home life. You were never made to work in an office. A rich husband is not always a good husband. Or a good father.”

A weight settles itself back on Jaebeom at his mother’s words, but it’s lighter than it was before. Like a compromise, Jaebeom nods and smiles at his mother. Her words seem so unreal anyway. Fatherhood. Jaebeom can see the wedding pavilion in the distance, but right now even that seems like a dream. His upcoming nuptials seem to hurtle back and forth in his mind from soberingly, heart-stoppingly real to as intangible and fleeting as the Sylphide. 

Speaking of, Jaebeom can see Jinyoung hurrying towards them from the direction of the villa. Like Jaebeom’s mother, he’s dressed and ready for the ceremony. The bleak white clouds obscure the sun, and Jaebeom realizes more time has passed than he thought.

“Sorry for losing my temper earlier,” he says to his mother before Jinyoung reaches them.

“You need to keep working on that,” she chides again. “You were being so good.” 

“Hyung!”

“Jinyoungie,” Jaebeom’s mother greets him with arms outstretched, like she hasn’t seen Jinyoung in months. She frowns a little, patting his cheek. “You already look run off your feet. Have you been sleeping enough?”

Jinyoung’s answer is lost on Jaebeom, no doubt something polite and sweet and just fake enough to get Jaebeom’s mother to stop worrying. They’re both almost ready, unlike Jaebeom still in his jeans and t-shirt, and he can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, if his mother wouldn’t be happier with a son like Jinyoung. Dutiful Jinyoung, who always knows the right thing to say. 

Jinyoung already dressed up so handsomely, dark hair parted prettily away from his face, like it could be his wedding day. Surely Jaebeom’s mother would be proud to send off such a son to be married.

“Hyung?” Jaebeom hears again, and he tears his gaze away from Jinyoung’s chest where his eyes had been losing focus. Jinyoung is fixing him with a concerned look.

“Are you alright?”

“Tired,” he responds automatically, although the exhaustion that seeps into his bones is deeper than any that can be solved by a couple nights’ sleep. 

Things have been strained between them since yesterday morning, and Jaebeom knows it’s his fault. He’s been distant and cold, and it was only the buffer of Jackson and Mark on the drive here yesterday that smoothed out their conversations. Jaebeom’s chest feels hollow, the emptiness crawling up his throat to steal his words and smiles. 

It’s the kind of dour despair that would sap him of the desire to draw, if he had the opportunity. Not even an emotion he can capitalize on for creativity. No art, no poetry, now that his words have left him.

“I had better steal him, I’m sorry. I need to do his hair before he gets dressed,” Jinyoung explains to Jaebeom’s mother, smiling gently. 

“Thank you Jinyoungie,” she says, touching Jinyoung’s round cheek fondly. “You always take such good care of our Jaebeom.”

Lovelorn, Jaebeom thinks, heartsick. Those are the words he’s looking for. It’s hardly his first heartbreak. Jinyoung always accused Jaebeom of falling too hard too fast, whenever he had to pick up the pieces of Jaebeom’s old ruined relationships. But this feels so vast, an endless horizon of regret opening in Jaebeom’s chest. The realization has been hitting Jaebeom hard and fast, but the love he thinks is anything but. 

He’s loved Jinyoung for a long time.

Soft and slow, like stepping into the ocean, or falling into bed after a long day.

“Hyung?”

“Coming,” Jaebeom responds, not meeting Jinyoung’s gaze, but following him all the same.

Jinyoung leads him back into the villa, and Jaebeom watches Jinyoung’s familiar back, relieved he never turns to look for him, but yearning for his gaze all the same. Nayeon and her friends are gone from the room when they get there, and Jinyoung starts bustling around the vanity.

“You should put this on,” Jinyoung says softly, handing Jaebeom a fluffy white robe with _GROOM_ embroidered on the chest, “and take your shirt off now, so it doesn’t mess up your hair when you change.”

Robotically, Jaebeom does as he’s told, pulling his shirt over his head and donning the robe. The silence feels like cotton in his ears, worse than when they’re fighting and giving each other the cold shoulder. The air between them now is the awkward silence of strangers.

In a daze, Jaebeom sits in the chair at the vanity and Jinyoung begins to style his hair. The small comfort of Jinyoung’s hands running through his hair feels bittersweet to Jaebeom. Every warm touch could be their last, doomed to a future of cold fleeting hands. 

Perhaps it’s for the best though. Now that his emotions have aligned themselves into an understandable picture, Jaebeom isn’t sure he could resist the temptation, if they were to carry on with the intimacy they’ve shared in the past. Even now, he can barely resist the urge to confess everything to Jinyoung like a penitent schoolboy. All the lies, all the secrets. It’s all becoming too much, widening the space between them quicker than the wedding itself can. 

“Hyung,” Jinyoung says gently, gaze so earnest it pierces Jaebeom. How many times has Jinyoung called to him today, when the sun has only just risen? Despite everything, Jinyoung is still looking after him. “Are you really alright? You seem…”

“I’m quitting my job,” Jaebeom responds when Jinyoung trails off, desperate to keep Jinyoung’s attention off his unpleasant mood. This is something he needs to tell Jinyoung anyway, and some part of Jaebeom knows he can’t keep thinking in miserable circles. This half-confession will have to do. Finally working up the courage, Jaebeom looks up into Jinyoung’s surprised face. “Are you upset?

“Of course not. If it were up to me, you’d have left that place years ago,” Jinyoung replies almost absent-mindedly, eyes focused on Jaebeom’s hair in the mirror as he tidies up a few stray pieces.

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Because it’s _not_ up to me,” Jinyoung says, pulling his hands back to rest on Jaebeom’s shoulders and letting their eyes meet decisively for a moment. “I can’t make decisions for you Jaebeom. Besides… it was good to get the experience, and you said you weren’t unhappy there…”

“I wasn’t,” Jaebeom says firmly. He’s reminded again of Jinyoung sitting in their bathroom tearfully confessing the guilt he feels, as if every bad part of Jaebeom’s life is his fault. “But he wants to promote me. A wedding present.”

After a pause, Jaebeom continues. “And you wouldn’t be making decisions for me. You think this is like me not dropping out of high school? That I might listen to you and end up unhappy because of it? Because-”

“You admitted I was the one who convinced you stay,” Jinyoung argues snappily, running his hands quickly through Jaebeom’s hair a few more times to adjust the shape, tugging Jaebeom’s head back as he does.

“I _also _admitted that was best for me in the long run.”

“I can’t dictate what you do in your life Jaebeom. I don’t want that responsibility. And you shouldn’t let me, even if I do know best. Me or anyone else.” His hands hold still in Jaebeom’s hair. “I’m glad you’re finally getting away from that place. You’ll be alright… financially? You’ve told Nayeon?”

“It’ll be alright.”

Nodding, Jinyoung’s eyes gleam in the bright lights of the vanity. The room is so dim, curtains drawn against the weak sun outside, and it feels like they’re cradled there together in the glow of the vanity lights. Jaebeom looks at Jinyoung’s reflection in the mirror, watching his wobbly smile and watery eyes. 

“Jinyoung?”

“I’m proud of you hyung.” Jinyoung’s hands are gentle now, brushing his fingers against Jaebeom’s temples to neaten hair that already looks perfect. “You’re really making a brand new life for yourself.”

Feeling an odd tension in his chest, Jaebeom still can’t read the emotion on Jinyoung’s face. “It won’t be all new Jinyoung. You’ll still be there, won’t you?”

Jinyoung’s wet eyes flit up nervously to meet Jaebeom’s in the mirror, before darting down again, and Jaebeom can see his throat move as he swallows roughly. His hands drift down to Jaebeom’s shoulders, and it feels like a loss. “Of course hyung. It’s just such a big step, getting married, leaving your job, all at once. But you’ll still have your friends.”

The reflection isn’t enough, and Jaebeom turns to look up at Jinyoung standing behind him. Nothing has been _enough_, Jaebeom thinks, taking Jinyoung’s hands into his and pulling him to perch on the vanity in front of Jaebeom. Jinyoung’s hands are a little greasy from whatever product he was putting in Jaebeom’s hair, but it doesn’t matter. They’re warm and familiar, and Jaebeom can’t bear to be condemned to only cold touches between them. He stares down at his hands that hold Jinyoung’s for a moment before looking up into his face.

“Jinyoung…” 

The name Jaebeom has called a hundred times before suddenly seems to be heavy with a hundred meanings. As if he can sense it too, Jinyoung matches Jaebeom’s desperate gaze with eyes full of trepidation. Though the edges of Jaebeom’s eyes sting, he isn’t afraid to tell him. It’s just Jinyoung. He wants to tell him before it’s too late, gathering his thoughts so he doesn’t just fumble out the _I love you_ on the tip of his tongue-

“Jaebeom?”

It’s not Jinyoung speaking, Jaebeom realizes like cold water crashing over his head, but Nayeon in the doorway, her face shockingly and uncharacteristically sober. Seeing her in the mirror, all in white, rushes through Jaebeom like a lightning bolt, like Nayeon caught him doing something he shouldn’t, and he whirls around in his chair to face her. It isn’t until he pulls away that he notices how Jinyoung and he had been leaning so closely towards each other.

“Nayeon.”

Skittish with nervous energy, Jinyoung stands, ears pinking in clear embarrassment. They all seem lost for words for a few moments, Jinyoung’s mouth open and trembling as he casts about for something to say. 

“We-” he finally blurts out, before moving Jaebeom’s head to the side with both hands, covering his eyes. “Don’t look at her, it’s bad luck!”

Mumbling a few more flustered “don’t look, don’t look”s, Jinyoung herds Nayeon out of the room and into the hall. The door clicks behind them, and Jaebeom is left alone.

It feels like Jinyoung’s damp hands left a mark on the sides of Jaebeom’s face, an echo of fantasy. Of Jinyoung cradling his face and pulling them ever closer together. The sensation ghosts over Jaebeom’s lips, but the moment has passed, and the room is monumentally empty.

The weight settles back in Jaebeom’s stomach and across his shoulders like a mantle as he stands to begin getting dressed. It’s a nice suit, crisp and black and perfectly tailored, but Jaebeom can’t only resent it as he buttons himself into his shirt in the adjoining bathroom. He doesn’t attach the boutonniere yet, leaving the little purple rose on the bathroom counter when he hears someone come back into the room.

“Jinyoung?” Jaebeom calls hopefully, stepping out of the bathroom, only to find Nayeon, closing the door to the hall behind her. Without meaning to, Jaebeom’s face falls at the sight of her, in her pillowy bejewelled white dress, the picture of a bride. She looks beautiful, but it only digs hooks into Jaebeom’s heart and pulls it into his stomach.

“There’s no need to look so disappointed that it’s me,” Nayeon mutters, too bitterly to be entirely a joke. With a sigh, she wraps her arms around herself like she’s cold. “Jinyoung ran off in a hurry, I think he forgot to do something.”

Taking a shaky breath, Nayeon presses on, tone forcibly casual. “What were you two doing?”

“He was just doing my hair.”

“It looks nice.” Nayeon pauses again. Her hands flutter and clench nervously, but Jaebeom’s never seen her stand so still. “I felt like I was interrupting something.”

“You-” Jaebeom is about to lie, but Nayeon seems so vulnerable with her hands twisted together like she’s scared to ask. The strange room makes Jaebeom feel like the consequences of the real world can’t reach him. “I was just going to tell him something. Doesn’t matter. Too late now.”

“Too late?” Nayeon’s head tips curiously to the side. “Why?”

“I said it doesn’t matter Nayeon,” Jaebeom says firmly, the anger in his chest growing at his own words. They pierce into Jaebeom like they’re being said by someone else, confirming how dispensable his feelings are. It hurts to say it, but it must be true. “Just drop it. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re really gonna miss him, huh?”

Words catch in Jaebeom’s throat as he runs over the answers. It would be perfectly natural to say he’ll miss his best friend, wouldn’t it? But Jinyoung won’t stop being his best friend, not really. They’ll still see each other, just not as much. Perhaps it’s not so natural after all, but Jaebeom is tired of lying.

“Yeah. Is that… normal?”

Nayeon snorts. “Well, as my fourteen-year-old self would tell you, normal is just a setting on the dryer.” She collects herself, shrugging. “And I mean, what’s normal supposed to mean? Do you feel that way or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll miss him. Jinyoung’s just…” Jaebeom takes a breath, trying to keep his voice smooth and even. “Jinyoung’s just really important to me.”

“Do you really…” Nayeon’s voice is sober and drawn now, choosing each word carefully, “do you really want to marry me more than you want to stay with him?”

Staring into Nayeon’s wide brown eyes, Jaebeom finds he can’t answer her question. Wouldn’t it hurt her? He’s silent for so long, she must see the answer in his face, breaking eye contact with a sigh. 

“Why are you doing this?” Nayeon asks quietly. “Marrying me? Why not just stay?”

“It’s not normal.”

“Not _normal?_ Having… a flatmate…? Oh.” Nayeon frowns, like she’s confused. “Oh. Are you… gay?”

“No!” Shame flares up in Jaebeom. Once upon a time it might have been at the mere suggestion, but Jaebeom is relieved to find the shame coming simply from having his future _wife_ asking him in the context of Jinyoung. “I’m not, okay?”

“Bi then? You’re into Jinyoung, aren’t you?” Nayeon accuses, eyebrows arched like she knows she’s onto something. “I _knew _there was something going on- oh my god, you’re not _together_, are you? Jaebeom, I swear, if you-”

“Nayeon, for fuck’s sake!” Jaebeom grumbles, eyes wide. “Jinyoung and I aren’t _together_, what kind of a dirtbag do you think I am?”

“But you don’t deny that you’re into him. No.” She tips her head again, narrowed gaze insufferably knowing. “You’ve known each other for a long time. You _love _him. Like _love _love. Jaebeom… why are you doing this?”

“Nayeon-”

The door to the hall clicks open loudly, accompanied by Jackson’s voice, “Hello, knock knock?” He steps into the room and closes the door silently behind him, tidied up in his grey suit too, a wide-eyed trepidation on his face.

“So I have bad news…” Jackson glances between them with a little frown. “Hold up, am I interrupting something?”

Nayeon doesn’t answer, arms crossed tightly in a way that tells Jaebeom the subject hasn’t been dropped.

“No, what is it?” Jaebeom answers Jackson, taking a step towards him. “Is everyone okay?”

“Oh,” Jackson says, laughing nervously, voice a little too loud for the tense room, “yes, nobody’s _hurt_ or anything. It’s just… uh it’s raining.”

“A lot?” Nayeon’s frown deepens.

“I mean… it’s good luck, right?” Jackson offers them a closed-mouth smile that’s probably supposed to be reassuring. “Rain on your wedding day?”

“People just say that to make the bride and groom feel better when their wedding is ruined,” Jaebeom repeats Jinyoung’s words from all those months ago under his breath.

“But yeah it’s. It’s like… I guess it’s not really your wedding day anymore, you see.” Jackson goes over to the windows and opens the curtains, revealing the grounds awash in a storm. “It’s off. The venue can’t go ahead with it, for like legal reasons. They’re trying to salvage the pavilion and stuff before it gets too bad.”

Jaebeom’s mouth falls open at the sight out the window. Strong wind blows heavy rainwater this way and that, the bleak day becoming worse while Jaebeom was oblivious behind closed curtains. He realizes then that the sound of the rain and wind had been growing this whole time, but with everything happening, he hadn’t given the ambient noises any mind. The weather turned so fast. The month had been a stormy one so far, and people had been concerned about the forecast for today, but the threat of bad weather seemed as unreal as the day itself. 

“So we’re… not getting married today? Will they reimburse us? Give us another date, or will we have to book again like completely new clients?” Nayeon rattles off, staring out the window in horror.

Jackson shrugs, looking lost. “They just told me the basics to come tell you guys. The wedding planner lady is like running around with her head cut off.”

Letting out an irritated sigh, Jaebeom runs a hand through his hair, ruining Jinyoung’s careful work. The unexpected delay fuels his nerves until they flare into anger. “God, this is the last thing I need…”

“Well I’m not exactly thrilled either,” Nayeon says, turning to face him with a frown.

“I just want all this to be over,” Jaebeom growls, angry energy burning under his skin as he avoids her eyes.

Tentatively, Jackson takes a step between them, like a mediator. “Will it ever be?”

“What?” 

“I mean, you’re getting _married_. It won’t stop after the wedding.” Jackson’s eyes search Jaebeom’s face for answers. “Will you ever stop being angry?”

“I don’t think you will,” Nayeon responds for him, her gaze just as piercing as Jackson’s. “You don’t want this, that’s why you’re angry. You’ll never want this!”

“Nayeon, I’m sure Jaebeom-”

“Jackson, thank you,” Nayeon gives him a tight smile, “but you really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You knew…” Jaebeom takes a deep steadying breath, trying not to feel cornered by their questions and accusations. Finally he meets Nayeon’s expectant gaze. “This was an arrangement Nayeon, you agreed _knowing_ I wasn’t going to… to… fall in love with you.”

“I _knew_ it,” Jackson mutters, but they both ignore him.

“God Jaebeom, shut up!” Nayeon narrows her eyes angrily. “I know that! I don’t mean I want you to want _me_. I knew that was never in the cards. I _mean_… I mean, you agreed too, but you seem to feel like you’re being forced! Like this is the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you!”

“What and you _don’t _feel forced?” Jaebeom responds incredulously. 

“I agreed to this because…” Nayeon trails off with a sigh, staring at the carpet, before fixing Jaebeom with a determined look. “I agreed to this marriage because I thought we were on the same page. We don’t… we aren’t in love with each other, but we get along, and for our parents’ sake… I thought neither of us had anyone else.”

“I _don’t_,” Jaebeom argues. “I don’t _have _anyone!”

“But you love him,” Nayeon matches Jaebeom’s tone, raising her voice, “you admit that you don’t want to leave him!”

“I’m not _with _him!” Jaebeom roars, but Nayeon doesn’t cower, eyes glinting in indignation.

“Jaebeom-” Jackson starts, voice tense but even, trying to deescalate the situation.

“You are!” Nayeon shouts back, ignoring Jackson again. “You may not be… dating, but you share your life with him, and it’s _clearly _upsetting you to be leaving it behind!”

“It’s just-” Jaebeom cuts himself off, frustrated beyond belief that he’s having to explain himself today of all days. “I’m just not used to change, I’m sorry! I know I can’t just stay stagnant forever, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy things changing!”

“What’s so stagnant about your life now?” Nayeon demands, face twisting in confusion. “That wouldn’t be the same when we’re married? You’re just marrying me because, what? You think it’s the next logical step in your life?”

“Oh and you’re marrying me for some other, better reason?”

“I’m-” Nayeon pauses, indignant expression slipping off her face as she processes what Jaebeom said.

For a brief moment, Jaebeom feels a wave of vindication.

“Jaebeom.” Nayeon looks out the window at the storm still raging, and she’s calm all of the sudden. “You’re right. I don’t have a better reason. Ever since I was little, I knew this was in my future. Me, in a big white dress, marrying a man like you in a place like this. It was what I thought I wanted, because why wouldn’t I?”

Jaebeom nods, sobering at Nayeon’s careful words. And they ring true, although Jaebeom had never been a little girl dreaming of the perfect wedding day. Why wouldn’t he want to marry Nayeon? After so many years of being troublesome and hardheaded, wouldn’t it be so much easier for everyone if he just went along with what’s expected? After all the pain he caused his mother, his step-father, Jinyoung, why couldn’t he do this one thing that would bring them happiness?

“I never even thought about… love,” Nayeon is saying. “About the life that would follow. I thought about you know, children, but not the man in the picture. So it didn’t seem like such a big deal that I don’t love you, and that you don’t love me. But it seems like a big deal now.”

“What are you saying?” Jaebeom asks, breathless. His chest feels empty of air.

Nayeon sighs, turning to look at Jaebeom, face imploring, desperate for understanding. “I’m saying I can’t marry you like this. I don’t want this,” she gestures between them, “to be our marriage. The arguing. If we get married, you’ll resent me for it. And I don’t care if you think you won’t, I’m not taking that chance. That’s not the kind of life I want to live. I kept ignoring it, but standing here now… it’s too real. I can’t do it.”

“You’re really gonna do this?” Jaebeom shakes his head incredulously. “Now? The day of?”

“I know I should’ve said something sooner. But you could have too!” Nayeon points a prettily manicured finger at Jaebeom’s chest like she’s scolding him. “If you were so unhappy with marrying me… and don’t try and deny it!”

“I thought. I thought it would get better. That it was for the best.”

“Best for us?”

“Nayeon, we agreed. For our parents-”

“But for us?”

“For our relationship with our parents then-” Jaebeom raises his voice.

“No!” Nayeon shouts, interrupting him again. Her face isn’t angry, but determined. Firm. “For us! Just us two! As individuals. Do you think it’s best?”

“No.” Jaebeom sighs. “No I don’t.”

“Neither do I,” Nayeon says solemnly. “I’m sorry Jaebeom. I thought I could do this. I got so swept up in all the planning, it seemed so fun, no matter how many times I got overruled about stuff… it was still a wedding. _My_ wedding. With all my friends, and your friends, and our families. Like it was just a game-” Nayeon’s voice cracks, and she dips her head down shamefully, mouth set in a trembling pout that reminds Jaebeom of Jinyoung. 

“Nayeon,” Jaebeom says lowly, tugging her against him, just as Jackson wraps and arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

“But we can’t,” Nayeon continues, voice shaky and muffled. “We shouldn’t. I think it would ruin everything if we got married.”

Jaebeom lets all his breath out in another long sigh, recentering. “Alright.”

Lifting his head from where he had lain it against Nayeon’s, Jackson cocks an eyebrow at Jaebeom.

“Well,” Jaebeom shrugs awkwardly, “it’s not like we were going to get married today anyway, with the weather being the way it is.”

“I hope nobody blames _me_ for this,” Jackson exclaims as they step apart from each other, careful not to tread on Nayeon’s long dress.

“Oh god, how am I going to tell my mother?” Nayeon groans. 

“My mother was just going on about how proud she is that I found such a nice girl… And Jinyoung, he was so… invested-”

“Guys guys,” Jackson cuts through their wallowing. “Don’t start second guessing yourself now. Putting yourself first every once and a while is important. I’m sure your mothers, and Jinyoung, would want you to do whatever makes you happy. Sometimes people can get wrapped up in their head, in ideas about how things ought to be. Just speak honestly with them.”

Jackson’s interrupted by a flash of lightning out the window, startling all of them. They look silently out the window until a heavy rumble of thunder follows.

“Anyway,” Jackson turns back to them with a grin, “for now, if it’s easier, we can always just say the wedding’s postponed. Then you can properly cancel it later.”

“That _would _look less irresponsible,” Nayeon says, nodding thoughtfully. “I guess we’re not getting married then.”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom breathes out, a dazed smile drifting across his face before he can stop it, “I guess we’re not getting married.”

With a playful frown, Nayeon smacks his arm. “Well there’s no need to look _so_ pleased!” 

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Nayeon looks shy for a moment. “I think, if I ever get married, I want… I want to feel loved. And I want a _much _smaller wedding.”

“Amen to that, it’s a fucking madhouse out there,” Jackson says, grin widening.

Several sharp knocks on the door to the hall and Mark’s popping his head through. “There you guys are! Jackson! Have you…” he lowers his voice, glancing between them shiftily, “Have you told them?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Jaebeom answers for him. “Wedding’s off.”

Mark narrows his eyes at them in suspicion. “You seem very… chill.”

“Don’t tell anyone else, but it’s off for good,” Jaebeom says. He can’t help the smile that comes over his face at saying it aloud, and is relieved to find a matching smile on Nayeon’s face. 

“Oh, I… wait wait.” Mark shakes his head, a serious expression coming over his face. “Have either of you seen Jinyoung? He ran off and said he was going to the gazebo, but I don’t know where that is.”

Jaebeom’s heart drops, glancing out the window. “The _gazebo?_ That’s off in the grounds… He’s out in this downpour?”

Without giving it much further thought, Jaebeom opens the door to the hall, causing Mark to step aside in confusion. He wants Jinyoung here now, in fact Jaebeom wants all his friends around him and safe from the weather and similarly inclement relatives.

“I’ll find him,” Jaebeom announces, feeling a bit like a hero in a Jane Austen novel for saying so. He lingers in the doorway for a moment, as if stepping out of the room will be the final nail in this wedding’s coffin. 

“You get Jinyoung and I’ll round up the others,” Nayeon answers Jaebeom’s silent question. “I think we should at least tell our friends what’s happening.”

“And I’ll get an umbrella!” Jackson cries gleefully, running off down the hall with a wild grin. “Meet you in the foyer Jaebeom!”

Jaebeom nods to Nayeon and steps out into the hall, heading towards the foyer. Guests and staff alike hurry this way and that, but luckily nobody tries to delay Jaebeom and Mark.

“You’re going out after him?” Mark asks, hot on Jaebeom’s heels.

“I love him,” Jaebeom admits, and he finds he doesn’t care who overhears. It could be innocuous enough, Jinyoung being his closest friend, but to Jaebeom, saying it aloud is indescribably significant. Weighty and feather-light all at once.

Keeping step with Jaebeom, Mark narrows his eyes and he cocks his brow challengingly. “Yeah, so?”

Confused at Mark’s reaction, Jaebeom’s steps slow slightly to fix his friend with a frown, willing the right words to come to him.

“You already knew that, didn’t you?” Mark prods when Jaebeom doesn’t reply.

“It’s…” Jaebeom glances at Mark like his earnest gaze will help him communicate what he means, “it’s different now.”

“Is it?” Mark asks lightly as they come to a stop in the foyer. His brows are still arched curiously like he’s dangling Jaebeom over a cliff of realization, but only letting go one finger at a time.

Again, Mark’s reaction baffles Jaebeom. It’s different and the same all at once, Jaebeom thinks. How obvious must he have been for Mark to be so unsurprised? For Jackson to so willingly jump on board? Surely Jinyoung, who knows him best of all, would have noticed too?

Before Jaebeom can think too hard, Jackson runs up to them, brandishing an umbrella.

“Go get him!” Jackson crows, pressing the umbrella into Jaebeom’s chest and clapping him on the back.

Mark presses an insistent hand to the other side of Jaebeom’s back, pushing him towards the door. “Well, hop to it!”

Nodding, Jaebeom steps out the door onto the terrace, Mark and Jackson coming out as far as the overhang.

Jackson’s voice follows him for a few steps through the wind and rain, “Oh my god this is so _exciting _Mark, I hope he _carries _Jinyoung back, that would be _so _romantic,” before Jaebeom is out of earshot amid the clamour of the storm.

The wind blows the rain to batter against Jaebeom’s face, turning the umbrella inside out and soaking right through his suit in a matter of seconds. Mindlessly, he tosses aside the useless umbrella, resolving to find it later. He doesn’t even want to think about the state of his leather shoes, focused on not slipping as he hurries towards the gazebo by the pond.

Sure enough, as the gazebo comes into sight, Jaebeom spots Jinyoung, sitting curled over his knees inside, suit looking as soaked through as Jaebeom’s.

“Jinyoung!”

At the call of his name, Jinyoung’s head snaps up in surprise. It’s difficult to tell through the rain, but he even looks… afraid, his eyes wide and haunted through the curtain of dark wet hair.

Finally Jaebeom steps into the gazebo and the small shelter its roof provides, the sound of the rain a heavy patter above them. Jinyoung’s face is wet and splotchy, although whether it’s from tears or just the rain, Jaebeom can’t tell. Stumbling in his waterlogged shoes, Jaebeom drops down beside Jinyoung, curling an arm around his shoulder comfortingly.

“What are you doing out here?”

Silently, Jinyoung extends his hand, covered in mud, and opens it to reveal an embroidered pouch. The look he gives Jaebeom is pitiful and apologetic, like a puppy who knows he has misbehaved.

“Oh,” Jaebeom says quietly, mind catching up to what’s in the pouch, “the rings. What happened?”

“I-” Jinyoung begins breathlessly, before taking a shuddering breath and continuing in a wavering voice, “I took them out to show to your mother this morning when we were out here, I must not have put it back in my pocket properly and I dropped the whole thing, I thought I ruined everything-” Jinyoung cuts himself off as he dips his head shamefully, hot tears running through the cold rainwater on his cheeks.

“And you found them again, so everything’s okay,” Jaebeom offers, squeezing Jinyoung’s shoulder, resisting the urge to pull him into a hug. The rings aren’t important anymore anyway. Jaebeom doesn’t even remember the return policy on them. 

“But now you’re here and your suit’s ruined, and your shoes!” Jinyoung reaches to pluck tearfully at Jaebeom’s now shapeless jacket, muddy hand drifting to a stop just before touching. “Why didn’t you just stay inside?”

“Jinyoung, Jinyoung, it’s okay, it’s just a suit,” Jaebeom says, laughing, finally giving in to his desires and pulling Jinyoung into his arms. It feels a bit silly, to be so relieved. Though the storm is picking up now, Jinyoung wasn’t in such great danger. But it feels like Jaebeom hasn’t held him in months. Like ever since the wedding preparations began, touches between them hadn’t been real, always with that bittersweet aftertaste. Jinyoung feels so real now, sleek wet hair against the side of Jaebeom’s face, solid beneath the layers of soaked clothing, and Jaebeom just wants to squeeze him tighter and tighter and never let go again. 

“I’m not getting married Jinyoung,” Jaebeom confesses breathlessly.

“Duh,” Jinyoung mutters, muffled against Jaebeom’s chest.

“No, I mean, not just because of the weather.” Jaebeom basks for a moment in the warmth of holding Jinyoung, despite the cold rain. “Nayeon and I have called it off. Completely. Nobody else really knows except Jackson and Mark.”

“Oh no, hyung, why? What happened?” Jinyoung pulls back far enough for Jaebeom to see into his face, arms still wrapped around each other. He looks so devastated Jaebeom feels a twinge of guilt. 

“We just… are you upset?”

Jinyoung’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, gaze flitting around Jaebeom’s face curiously, like trying to figure out a tricky puzzle. “Aren’t you?”

When Jaebeom doesn’t answer right away, Jinyoung sighs, still examining Jaebeom’s face. “Hyung, it’s _your_ wedding, not mine. I told you it doesn’t matter how I feel about it, but I don’t understand. You don’t seem upset.”

“I’m not,” Jabeom admits. “This is what we want.”

“If… if you’re sure? Are you two… still together, just not marrying, or…?”

“No. We’re not together anymore. I’ll still move out,” Jaebeom blurts out, trying to reassure Jinyoung. “I’ll need a bit more time though, to find a place.”

“If that’s-” Jinyoung starts, eyes downcast and voice watery again. Suddenly he purses his lips. “I just… are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re still leaving your position, aren’t you? Won’t it be too much of an upheaval? Are you that sick of living with me?”

“No!” Jaebeom replies, a little too loudly for how close Jinyoung’s face is to his. Bashful, he lowers his voice to continue. “No, Jinyoung. I’m not sick of you. Never.”

“Then why move?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

Jinyoung shivers, reminding Jaebeom of their wet clothes, but he looks cross with determination. “No.” Lurching forward, Jinyoung presses himself into Jaebeom again, tucking his face into Jaebeom’s neck. “Don’t move. It wouldn’t make any sense, logically, to buy a new place just as you’re becoming unemployed. And I don’t want you to. I want you and Nora to stay with me. Let me be selfish one more time.”

“It’s not selfish Jinyoung,” Jaebeom says firmly, before his voice softens. “I want that too. I want to stay. I’ll stay. And Nora.”

A rumble of thunder interrupts them, and Jaebeom pulls back with an exaggerated grimace of concern, making Jinyoung crack a small smile. “We’d better get inside,” Jaebeom says.

Stiffly, they stand from where they were huddled, Jaebeom helping Jinyoung up and not letting go of his hand, tugging him along.

Together, they run back to the main building, past the partially dismantled pavillion, purple wisteria lying tragically sodden on the ground. Their hands are slick from the rain and mud, but Jaebeom holds Jinyoung’s tight so they won’t slip apart. A feeling as wide as the sea bursts into Jaebeom’s chest and flows through him as they run, making his face bloom into a foolish smile. It must be what he’s meant to be feeling on his wedding day, he thinks. It must be love.

When they get inside, they pause for a moment in the foyer, still hand-in-hand, shivering and dripping wet. As always, Jinyoung looks insufferably handsome, even with his hair plastered across his forehead and his eyes red and puffy from crying. It strikes Jaebeom how unfamiliar the happiness shining forth from Jinyoung’s face has become. As if Jinyoung hasn’t been truly been happy in months. How could Jaebeom not have noticed? How could he have so willingly accepted Jinyoung’s melancholy eyes above tight half-smiles all this time? 

“_Hyung_,” Jinyoung complains in a tremulous voice, a laugh bubbling over, “you’re crushing my fingers!”

“C’mon.” Jaebeom tugs Jinyoung through the hall, loosening his grip but not letting go. Every little thing thrills him, like happiness buzzing inside his head. He smiles back at Jinyoung. “We should change.”

“God, what happened to you two?” Jeongyeon greets them at the door to Jaebeom and Nayeon’s room with an incredibly unimpressed look on her face. “You’d better change before you get pneumonia or something.”

Leaving their muddied and ruined shoes and socks outside the door, they step inside, finding most of the wedding party assembled, lounging on the floor or draped on the furniture. Everyone is chattering, dressed in everything from their pajamas to their formal wedding attire. Nayeon, sitting amid a gaggle of her friends on the bed, has opted for her pajamas with rabbits frolicking across a purple background. The wedding dress is nowhere in sight.

“Jaebeom, your clothes are still in the _groom’s restroom_,” Nayeon tells them from her spot, pointing like a queen on her throne of pillows to one of the two adjoining bathrooms. “And Jinyoung, I hope you don’t mind using the _bride’s restroom_ for a moment, I had your clothes put in there.”

“Thank you,” Jinyoung says with a nod, offering Jaebeom a quick smile before hurrying to change.

As Jaebeom goes to do the same, Jackson tugs at his trouser leg from his spot on the floor.

“_Did you confess?_” Jackson mouths at Jaebeom, gesturing excitedly.

Jaebeom just blinks at him in confusion, and beside Jackson, Mark shakes his head scornfully. “He didn’t. Told you he wouldn’t.”

Rolling his eyes, Jaebeom steps into the bathroom to change. Alone for the first time since so many things have happened, he takes a moment to stare at himself in the mirror, dazed. He looks cold, nose and cheeks rosy, and wet. He looks excited. 

Maybe he should be overwhelmed. Scared. But it doesn’t feel scary. These life decisions aren’t piling up and burying him like an avalanche. Rather they lap around his legs like waves drawing him closer to the safer shore, or even out into the adventure of the wide sea. Both at once. He doesn’t just _look_ excited, he feels excited too, and it makes him realize how foreign a feeling it has become, on such a grand scale. 

As he removes his wet suit, letting them slop messily over the side of the couple’s bathtub, Jaebeom thinks this works too. Each piece he sheds brings relief, warmth, until he’s rubbing himself down vigorously with a towel. His boutonniere sits where he left it on the counter. So much has changed since he last laid eyes upon it that his heart swells with hopeful joy to see it again.

After blow-drying his hair, Jaebeom slips into his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie, and returns to the others.

Barely thinking, Jaebeom’s eyes find Jinyoung first, in his matching pajama set and wrapped snugly in a white robe. He’s tucked halfway under the vanity table and halfway under Jackson’s arm as he ruffles a towel through Jinyoung’s hair with a grin.

Jaebeom’s fond smile is interrupted by Nayeon snapping at him as she slides awkwardly off the bed from among the tangle of her friends. When he turns to her in confusion, she rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“I think we’d better tell everyone about the wedding cancellation before you start booking a new one,” Nayeon says under her breath once she’s stepped up beside Jaebeom, eyebrows raised teasingly.

“Right,” Jaebeom agrees sheepishly, before turning to regard the room. “Can I have everyone’s attention for a moment?”

Shockingly, everyone complies quickly, perhaps curious enough to refrain from any friendly ribbing regarding Jaebeom’s formal tone.

“Okay well-” Nayeon starts, grinning at Jaebeom.

“We have some news to tell everyone,” he continues, glancing around at everyone’s faces, unable to stop his own smile. Announcing it to their friends like this, finally calling the wedding off is feeling so totally and utterly right, like puzzle pieces clicking into place.

The others look anywhere from mildly curious to deeply apprehensive, and after a pause a shocked Jihyo blurts out, “You can’t be pregnant?”

“What?” Nayeon squeaks, mortified. “Jihyo! Of course not! How could you think that?”

As one, everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief, and Jihyo shrugs unapologetically. 

“Well,” Nayeon says with a little offended frown around the room, “if you liked that so much, you’re gonna love this! We’re not getting married!”

“I think we figured out that much,” Yeri scoffs, waving her hand towards the window. “It’s pouring!”

“No, we’re not getting married at all,” Jaebeom explains diplomatically, glancing about at the shock dawning on everyone’s faces. “We’re only telling you guys right now, so don’t spread it around. We’ll be breaking it to the parents later.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Daehyun speaks up. “You really waited until the last second to call it off, huh?”

“Oh good,” Jennie says loudly with a satisfied grin, “I won’t have to put that ugly dress on ever again.” 

A murmur of agreement goes around the room, especially among the other bridesmaids.

Jisoo glances between Jaebeom and Nayeon, brow furrowed. “But _why _aren’t you getting married? Did something happen?”

“Yes we found our… self respect,” Nayeon says, shrugging. “Only a couple of you know this, but this wedding was never about us. It was about our parents. Jaebeom and I realized… we don’t really want to get married. Not to each other at least. I don’t think we ever did, but we just finally…”

“Listened to your hearts!” Jisoo suggests, looking positively smitten with the idea.

A chatter rises through the room as several people speak at once, muttering to each other and grumbling again about how last minute it all is, but Jaebeom’s eyes are fixed on Jinyoung. As happy as he had looked earlier, he looks quite cross now. And for once, Jaebeom feels he knows why. Like tuning into a radio station that he thought he’d lost the reception for, Jaebeom anticipates Jinyoung by heading towards the door to the hall even before Jinyoung can approach him.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Jinyoung asks sharply, eyes narrowed, and Jaebeom just opens the door to the hall and follows him out. He knows at least that Jinyoung wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of their friends. Just before he closes the door, Jaebeom catches sight of Mark shooting him a knowing and thoroughly unsympathetic look.

As soon as they’re out in the hall, Jinyoung whirls around to face him, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“You _lied _to me Jaebeom?”

“I’m sorry,” Jaebeom offers immediately, and he _is_ sorry. 

“Why?” Jinyoung shakes his head like he can’t even believe what he’s been hearing. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“I knew… I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“Like what?” Sighing, Jinyoung orders Jaebeom in a clipped tone, “Explain to me exactly what your relationship with Nayeon is. Or was. Whatever. Talk.”

“After you introduced us, we tried going on a few dates, you know. It was fun… you know?” Jaebeom shrugs nervously, not meeting Jinyoung’s hard gaze. “But it wasn’t really going anywhere until our parents got wind of it. Nayeon’s parents, they’re—well, you know. They’re well-off, the kind of people my father would kill to get in with. And Nayeon’s parents really approved of me, for some reason.”

Jinyoung looks horrified. “So you just… decided to get married? Even though…?”

“There was… pressure,” Jaebeom admits through gritted teeth. “We just- I don’t know. Looking back now, yeah, I guess it’s stupid.”

“You _guess_? You never thought ‘hm, why am I hesitating to tell Jinyoung the truth? is it perhaps because this is the stupidest idea I’ve ever had?’?”

“Jinyoung I _know_, okay?” Jaebeom resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it will only rile them both up further. “You think I haven’t heard this for the past five months from Mark? God, and Youngjae, he thought the wedding was all legit and _still _he was-”

“Mark knew?” Jinyoung cuts in, eyes flashing dangerously. 

In a sudden jolt of understanding what Jinyoung’s about to do, Jaebeom steps to intercept Jinyoung as he reaches for the door. Their chests bump and Jinyoung rears his head back in annoyance.

“Don’t,” Jaebeom blurts out, holding Jinyoung’s shoulders for leverage. “Don’t be angry with Mark. You know it’s me you’re mad at. And he did try to talk some sense into me. Lots of times. And get me to tell you.”

“So why didn’t you?” Jinyoung asks, voice weak now. His anger seems to be subsiding along with Jaebeom’s, the tide of harsh words pulling back to show how hurt he is.

“I just-” Jaebeom stops before his voice breaks, feeling the prick of tears in his eyes at the sight of Jinyoung’s wet lashes. He wants to hide his face, tilting his head down to fix his watery eyes on the sad pile of their sodden shoes. He can’t help but be ashamed, small in a way only his mother and Jinyoung can make him feel. To make matters worse, Jinyoung loops his arms over Jaebeom’s comfortingly. “I wanted to do something good for once.”

“Hyung…” Jinyoung says gently, “what are you talking about?”

“I feel like I’ve only ever made trouble for people I care about. I thought… it was about time I just do something to make people happy. Make things easier for my mom. For you…”

“For _me_? You mean part of the reason you were marrying Nayeon… is because you thought_ I_ would want it? That it would make me… _happy_?” Jinyoung laughs, closer to hysterical than amused. “God! I know I said you shouldn’t live your life according to what I want, but if that’s what you’re deadset on doing, at least _ask_ me what I actually want!”

“You don’t… or, you didn’t want me to marry Nayeon?” Jaebeom asks, confused.

Jinyoung looks a little caught-out for a moment, dropping his arms away from Jaebeom to stuff his hands into the pockets of his robe, shrugging. Reluctantly, Jaebeom lets his own hands drop away from Jinyoung’s shoulders. 

“I don’t know, I guess… I just thought something was wrong. I’m sorry.” Jinyoung sighs. “I think I was so caught up in convincing myself the wedding was a good idea, I didn’t stop to think… to pay attention to you, notice if it was even something you wanted. I didn’t think you’d be _lying_ to me, I didn’t want to question you. I should have known. The way you acted around her, you may as well have been her brother.”

“...what?”

“Jaebeom.” Jinyoung gives him an unimpressed look, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall with a thump. “I’ve seen you in practically every single relationship you’ve ever been in. With Nayeon, you barely put your hand on her waist, never mind the disgusting way you’d drape yourself all over your previous girlfriends in public. Made me want to vomit.”

“Alright alright,” Jaebeom grumbles, rolling his eyes and moving to lean against the wall beside Jinyoung, shoulders bumping.

“Whenever you’re invested in being with someone, you get very… what’s the word I’m looking for? Intense?”

“Passionate?” Jaebeom suggests hopefully. 

“No,” Jinyoung waves his hand at Jaebeom dismissively, “intense is better. Making all these grand declarations and filling up your sketchbooks with them.”

Jaebeom nods, defeated. It’s true. And it hasn’t exactly had the best results either, something Jinyoung is all too aware of. Apparently dating an artist is only fun for the first couple months, whether it’s a profession or just a hobby. 

But something else strikes Jaebeom then. From peaceful sedate studies of him reading to hurried sketches of his twisting body as he stretches or dances, nobody fills as many pages of Jaebeom’s sketchbooks as Jinyoung.

“But you weren’t like that with her,” Jinyoung continues. “I thought maybe you were acting differently because you were just… even more serious than usual or something. Trying to be a boring grownup in a boring grownup relationship.”

“I guess I kind of was,” Jaebeom says with a crooked grin, glancing sideways over at Jinyoung.

“Well you can cut it out now. You _are _a grownup, but you don’t have to be boring, like me,” Jinyoung says, meeting Jaebeom’s gaze with a self-deprecating sort of smile. “You’ve always seemed, from an outsider’s perspective, like a good boyfriend _because_ of your intensity. You shouldn’t change yourself because of past relationships that went poorly. You’ll find someone who can handle you hyung.”

Jaebeom breathes deeply, staring into Jinyoung’s faithful brown eyes. “I hope so.”

“You will. Just, don’t ever lie to me about something like this again,” Jinyoung orders slowly, poking a finger into Jaebeom’s chest, before his voice softens, hand drifting down the front of the hoodie idly. “_Please_. Of course I wouldn’t have liked it, but I could have helped, I could have been there for you. If you were so deadset on marrying Nayeon, even just for your parents I-”

“You would have talked me out of it.”

“Yes, I probably I would have _tried _to at first-”

“And you would have succeeded,” Jaebeom interrupts him gently. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I knew as soon as you said your piece against the wedding I would have caved. And I promised Nayeon. I didn’t want to have to pick between her and you.”

There’s a knock from inside the room, and Jackson’s head pops out. “Hello, I’m the sacrificial lamb again, if you two are finished fighting,” he chatters quickly, “Yeri and Jennie and Bambam were hoping to go steal the cake.”

Jaebeom blinks. “The cake?”

“It’ll go bad otherwise…” Jackson says with a shrug.

Jinyoung sighs, shaking his head fondly. “We’re finished fighting.”

“All clear,” Jackson calls back into the room, and the door bursts open, revealing Bambam.

“We’ll be back,” he tells Jaebeom dramatically, before hurrying down the hall, pulling along a chain of Lisa, Jennie, a girl Jaebeom’s unfamiliar with, and Yeri bringing up the rear.

“I feel like every time I blink Nayeon has a new friend,” Jaebeom says, watching them scamper down the hall like ducklings, waving bemusedly to Yeri.

“That’s Seulgi, she’s literally been helping out for months.” Jackson nudges Jinyoung conspiratorially from his spot in the doorway. “You know Mina told me Seulgi has a crush on you. ”

“Oh,” Jinyoung says awkwardly. “I’m sure she’ll get over it.”

“_I_ think-”

“Jackson.” Jinyoung levels a stern frown at him. 

“Alright, alright!” Jackson links his arm with Jinyoung, tugging him back into the room, giving Jaebeom a significant look over his shoulder. “I just think that you have so many _options_, Jinyoungie. You’re a very handsome and nice man, as _many _of Nayeon’s fetching friends can attest to. You could be snapped up _any day_.”

As he follows them in, Jaebeom catches Jinyoung’s bewildered look in Jackson’s direction, clearly chalking up his words to typical Jacksonisms, not anything aimed at Jaebeom.

Jaebeom is folded between Jinyoung and Mark on the floor by the vanity, Jackson already chattering away to Mark about something or other. Hesitantly, Jaebeom reaches out for Jinyoung’s hand where he’s got them tucked into the sleeves of his robe. At Jaebeom’s touch, Jinyoung looks down at the intrusive hand.

“Are you still cold?” Jaebeom asks quietly, under the thrum of conversation. 

Slowly, Jinyoung’s fingers peek out from his robe, allowing Jaebeom’s hand to gather them tightly. “I’m warm now.”

“Me too.”

The door to the hall slams open dramatically, Jaebeom hopes for the last time today.

“We got the cake!” Bambam crows, holding aloft a usb stick. “_And_ the wedding playlist!”

Before anyone can question him, Jennie and Seulgi wheel a cart around the corner, both of them half-hidden by the towering white wedding cake.

“Careful, the top tier is gluten free,” Yeri pipes up from behind the cake.

They diligently get to work, cutting the cake with the knife they somehow acquired and distributing the mismatched pieces on paper napkins. Jinyoung declines a piece, and Jaebeom feels a little smug about the fact that they can keep holding hands under the sleeve of Jinyoung’s robe.

As Yeri helps set up the wedding playlist to play on Nayeon’s laptop, Bambam gasps and almost drops the knife he’s cutting the cake with.

“Oh my god, should we be letting you guys cut the cake?” Bambam looks between Nayeon and Jaebeom with panic on his face. “Are Lisa and I like married now?”

“Better you than us,” Nayeon calls with a chortle. 

On the other side of the cake, Lisa puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows at Bambam, as if challenging him to let off a trademark “eww”. Wisely, he stays silent and returns to cutting the cake.

“I’m gonna shuffle it!” Yeri says from the laptop, the honourary DJ of the night, and decisively hits the space bar. The opening notes of _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ begin to play out of the tinny laptop speakers.

“Who the hell added this song?” Youngjae says, laughing.

Nayeon scoffs through a mouthful of cake. “Don’t look at me.”

“Hey, I love this song,” Jinyoung grumbles. “It’s about vampires.”

“It’s a classic,” Jihyo agrees with an easy grin. Leaning over to grab Nayeon’s brush from the vanity as a faux microphone, she begins to sing along. Jackson and Jisoo almost immediately catch on, chiming in.

_(Turn around)_  
_Every now and then_  
_I get a little bit nervous _  
_That the best of all the years have gone by_

Bolstered by her, even more people start to join in, singing prettily or belting it out dramatically, until even the weakest voices melt into the chorus of all their voices. Finally Jaebeom joins in, knowing the lyrics instinctually from Jinyoung’s habit of playing the song when he feels the unusual urge to clean the apartment.

_And I need you now tonight_  
_And I need you more than ever_  
_And if you only hold me tight_  
_We’ll be holding on forever_  
_And we’ll only be making it right_  
_‘Cause we’ll never be wrong_

_Together we can take it to the end of the line_  
_Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time (all of the time)_

On Jaebeom’s left, Mark is only mouthing along to the words with a grin on his face, but when he turns to his right, he’s startled by Jinyoung’s eyes are on him. Before he can read too much into their depths, Jinyoung is jostled by Jackson, on his knees leaning on Jinyoung’s shoulders, acting out the great anguish of the song with animated movements. Jinyoung’s eyes drift down to the floor, his rich voice reaching Jaebeom’s ears below all the other noise. 

_I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark_  
_We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks_

_I really need you tonight_  
_Forever’s gonna start tonight_  
_(Forever’s gonna start tonight)_

_Once upon a time I was falling in love_  
_But now I’m only falling apart_  
_There’s nothing I can do_  
_A total eclipse of the heart_

When the song finally comes to an end, Jaebeom has no time to examine the wistful look on Jinyoung’s face. The next song is already playing, and the others are already singing. Jaebeom can’t resist the cheerful rosy faces of his friends old and new. We’ve got time, he thinks, squeezing Jinyoung’s hand that never left his. There are a good many things he and Jinyoung still need to talk about, and now isn’t the time for all of them.

Surrounded by their friends singing and eating cake and chattering away, Jaebeom is comfortable, although it’s a little inconvenient to eat his own piece of cake one-handed. Some of the livelier ones, Nayeon included of course, even wriggle around together in the middle of the room in some semblance of dancing.

With sugar comes the sugar crash, and after the excitement of singing and dancing and the drama earlier in the day, people knock off bit by bit. A few wander back to their own rooms, but just as many fall asleep around the room. Nayeon and some of her friends arrange themselves intricately on the bed like tetris blocks, and the rest of them end up in semi-orderly rows on the floor, propped up with cushions and blankets.

Crammed back-to-back with Youngjae on the floor, Jaebeom wonders if Jinyoung is awake still, eyes straining to see him through the dark.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom whispers, wary of others as they slowly fall asleep. “You awake?”

“I’m awake,” Jinyoung answers, voice close. Carefully, Jaebeom moves his leg forward until his knee brushes Jinyoung’s. He must be on his side too, lying symmetrically curved towards each other, and Jaebeom feels oddly reassured.

“You’re really okay with this? I’m not-” Jaebeom continues as he imagines Jinyoung’s frown, “I’m not asking for like… your permission. I just want to know how you’re feeling.”

Jinyoung huffs out a quiet little laugh, knocking Jaebeom’s knee chidingly with his, and Jaebeom can just see Jinyoung’s eyes glinting through the dark, meeting his. “I want you to be happy, dumbass. So does your mother. She’ll kick your ass when she finds out you were forcing yourself to marry when you don’t want to. You’re so goddamn stupid sometimes Jaebeom.”

“Hey, show some fucking respect,” Jaebeom mumbles half-heartedly.

“I’d rather die.” Jinyoung pauses so long Jaebeom thinks maybe he’s fallen asleep, but eventually he asks, “Why did you change your mind?”

“Technically Nayeon called it off.” Jaebeom takes a steady breath, pausing as he considers how much to reveal in this crowded room full of their friends. “But there were a lot of reasons I didn’t want to marry her. At the end what made it an easy decision were two things. I felt obligated to go through with it for Nayeon’s sake, but if she didn’t want to anymore… then there wouldn’t be much of a point.”

“And the second thing?”

“My father was the one who wanted it to be Nayeon. I’ve tried for so long to-” Jaebeom’s voice breaks, and Jinyoung’s hand worms through the blankets to hold his comfortingly. “I know I talk a big game about not caring about what he thinks, especially after the divorce. But I wouldn’t be working for him in his godforsaken office if I didn’t. I might not have so readily agreed to marry Nayeon either. I think I know, deep down, that my mom would be happy with me marrying any clean, well-mannered, preferably Korean person if I love them and plan to have handsome children down the line.”

Jinyoung stifles a laugh with his free hand, and as his vision adjusts to the dark, Jaebeom can just see the familiar whisker wrinkles fan out below Jinyoung’s eyes.

“But my father wanted the connections with Nayeon’s family. Anyway, what was my point?” Jaebeom thinks for a moment. “Ah. Well if I’m quitting my job anyway, I figure… fuck it. That’s my relationship with my father down the toilet, so why force the wedding if Nayeon doesn’t want it either?”

“And you’re alright with that? Your father?”

“Yeah actually.” Jaebeom shrugs awkwardly. Surprisingly enough, when he delves deep down, he finds he is. Sometime in university, the teenage hatred of his father had evolved into something else, as the man reentered his life. But impressing his father is a never-ending uphill battle, and Jaebeom feels as if he has finally realized there are better mountains to climb.

“Good. And you know if he really cares about you as his son, he won’t let this ruin your relationship a second time,” Jinyoung says levelly. Though he cannot clearly see it, Jaebeom knows Jinyoung has a very firm and serious look on his face. “You’re not just some chess piece to marry off, or just an heir to his company.”

“Thank you.” Jaebeom squeezes Jinyoung’s hand. He knows of Jinyoung’s distaste for his father, although Jinyoung tries not to show it too much for Jaebeom’s sake. 

“Hey Jinyoung,” Jaebeom continues, suddenly reminded of a time when they were younger and lying face-to-face just like this, in the dark in Jaebeom’s room. “Do you remember when my mom had just remarried and I decided I wanted to take my step-dad’s last name? I was so scared of telling you.”

“Why were you scared?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me,” Jaebeom says, smiling at the memory, feeling as safe and warm as he had back then. “We wouldn’t be the Park brothers anymore. Remember how people always thought we were brothers?”

“I remember,” Jinyoung answers dryly.

“But you weren’t mad. You were happy. You said you were proud of me.” Jaebeom lets out a quiet huff of laughter. He remembers crying in relief, full to the brim with teenage hormones and the fear of change, and hoping Jinyoung couldn’t tell through the dark. “I was so worried it was stupid, too much at once, but you said it was a lovely idea. That it would make my mother so happy. And it did.”

“Always overthinking things.”

“I learned it from you.”

“Shut up.” Jinyoung shifts where he’s laid. “Hold on.”

“What?”

“My underwear’s riding up,” Jinyoung whispers even quieter.

“You think you’d be used to having wedgies,” Jaebeom says with a small snicker.

Letting out a noise of disgust, Jinyoung yanks his hand back to smack Jaebeom square on the chest.

And after a pause, there’s a rustle and Jennie sits up on the bed somewhere above Jaebeom’s head. “Look, I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” she says in an entirely unapologetic tone, “but _why _would he be used to having wedgies?”

On the other side of Jinyoung, whose cheeks are already pinking in embarrassment, Jackson rolls over and props himself up on his elbows to face Jennie. 

“It’s the sad truth of being a male ballet dancer,” he says dramatically. “Or… happy truth, if you’re into that.”

From somewhere in the room, Mina lets out a suppressed giggle, just as Jinyoung groans in embarrassment and covers his face with his hands.

Yeri and Nayeon sit up in unison, eyebrows raised in interest, and Yeri clicks on the tiny bedside lamp. “Elaborate,” Jennie orders.

“Oh, do you not know?” Jackson’s eyes light up, and he shuffles up to sit cross-legged. “We have to wear these things, you know, under our costumes as underwear. They’re called belts but they’re more like really sturdy thongs.”

Mina’s doing very little to quiet her giggles now, and Mark is joining in with a broad grin and a high-pitched laugh.

“Are you saying that when we see a dancer’s butt in tights it’s really just his butt under there?” Yeri asks incredulously.

“Yes,” Jackson says mock-seriously. “Panty-lines are a ballet dancer’s worst enemy.”

The room erupts into shocked and delighted laughter, and Jinyoung rolls into Jaebeom’s chest, his hands not hiding his embarrassed face well enough anymore. Grinning down at Jinyoung’s vibrantly red ears, Jaebeom ruffles his hair.

“I hate you,” Jinyoung grumbles.

“Isn’t it also so you don’t crush anything…” Daehyun glances around the room warily before choosing his words, “_important_ between your thighs?” 

“Oh yeah,” Jackson says, the dramatic tone fading away, “it’s mostly to keep everything securely tucked up front and out of the way.”

“So _that’s _why Jinyoungie always looks so well-endowed on stage,” Youngjae says with a chortle.

“Youngjae!” Jinyoung squawks, reaching across Jaebeom to knock Youngjae in the head with a spare pillow. “Be quiet. Jackson, you’re on thin ice. It’s bedtime. Everyone sleep now.”

Obediently, Mina leans over Nayeon and turns the lamp off, plunging the room back into darkness. People settle down slowly, still laughing. Jinyoung smacks Jaebeom one last time.

“You’re dead to me,” he whispers.

**//**

The next day, everyone returns home. 

And then in the afternoon, at home, Jaebeom asks, “Did you want me to move out?” 

It’s the first time he’s brought up such a weighty topic with Jinyoung since the night before, and they’re each arm-deep in a box of Jaebeom’s clothes when he asks. They’ve spent the morning unpacking Jaebeom’s books and other paraphernalia from boxes in the front room, Jinyoung seeming eager to get the boxes emptied and put away.

Jinyoung frowns at him over a pile of black sweatpants. “I told you, I want you to stay.”

“No I mean…” Jaebeom toys with the socks in the box in front of him, “did it upset you that I was moving out?”

“Oh,” Jinyoung says dumbly, breaking eye contact to shrug and tuck the sweatpants back into their drawer.

“Jinyoung. I’m staying now, so just tell me the truth.”

“Yes, I was upset. But I was always going to be upset by-” Jinyoung shakes his head dismissively, collapsing the empty cardboard box more roughly than necessary. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I was so convinced it was something you wanted,” Jaebeom says, standing to take the folded cardboard box out of Jinyoung’s hands. He needs Jinyoung to listen, but Jinyoung only pulls Jaebeom’s box over instead. Sighing, Jaebeom sits down on the other side of the box, crammed full of socks and a few other things thrown in last minute.

When Jaebeom doesn’t continue, Jinyoung’s shoulders raise guiltily, and he stops his rummaging, looking up to give Jaebeom his attention. “Sorry. What made you think I wanted you to move out?”

Accepting Jinyoung’s little apology with a blink, Jaebeom sighs again. “I just needed it to be something good for you, good for both of us. I didn’t even consider your feelings. And it’s not like you would tell me. Why would how you feel not matter?”

Jinyoung has the grace to look contrite for a moment, hands idle among Jaebeom’s neatly paired socks. “You were getting married. It would have been selfish…” Jaebeom frowns at the word, but Jinyoung clearly can’t think of a better one, “_selfish_ of me to say I didn’t want you to move out, and make you feel bad about… being happy, and making a life for yourself.”

“I _have _a life Jinyoung. I am happy. Just because it’s with you and not… a wife, doesn’t make it any less of a life.” Jaebeom shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t mean to make that rhyme. But you know what I mean, right? Jinyoung… Why would you hide your feelings from me?”

“I hide a lot of things from you hyung,” Jinyoung says, curling his shoulders in but not breaking his firm gaze. “And I guess this wedding has made it clear you hide a lot of things from me too.”

Almost prophetically, Jinyoung pulls Jaebeom’s old journals out of the muddle of socks. He runs a critical eye over the top journal’s cover before setting them aside, by Jaebeom’s knee. As he did before, at the bachelor’s “party”, he doesn’t snoop.

“Aren’t you even a little curious what’s in there?” Jaebeom says weakly, trying for a teasing tone.

“Of course. But I’m not interested in invading your privacy hyung,” Jinyoung answers sharply. “If it’s important, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Under Jinyoung’s piercing gaze, Jaebeom can’t help but wilt, feeling chastised. “I’m sorry Jinyoung. I feel like this wedding… me almost moving out… like it did something weird to us. We’ve gotten so used to not having to communicate things, that now, when we really should’ve been communicating, it sort of screwed us over that we weren’t.”

Turning his gaze away from Jaebeom to stare steadily off at nothing, Jinyoung looks impossibly somber and still, like Jaebeom is reading the eulogy of their relationship.

“I always used to think… we knew everything about each other,” Jaebeom says quietly, reaching into the box slowly to take one of Jinyoung’s hands in his, needing the comfort of it. It strikes him that this is one of the only forms of physical affection he has allowed himself to initiate with Jinyoung, and how greedy he’s been getting with it lately. But Jinyoung never brushes Jaebeom’s hand aside, and he takes it now into both of his.

After a silence that seems to stretch on forever, Jinyoung raises his calm gaze to meet Jaebeom’s. 

“I think it was just the wedding hyung. We both… got so distracted by it. We _do _know each other well, but not by accident, or luck. I tried so hard to… to… break into the soft gooey middle I knew was in you when people thought you were mean and unkind. You listened to me and encouraged me when I felt left-out and alone. I don’t think either of us are good at _willingly _sharing parts of ourselves. We had to work on it together. Force each other almost.

“Being able to be there for you, and knowing that you’ll be there for me, to listen and work through things…” Jinyoung’s voice falters for a moment, and he breaks eye contact to push on, “I love that part of being your friend. But with the wedding… I didn’t _want _to know. I didn’t want to listen. And neither did you. For the wedding to go forward, we had to choose not to examine our feelings, or each other’s feelings too deeply. 

“What… what I’m trying to say is. I don’t think we need to be so grim about it.” Jinyoung catches Jaebeom’s gaze again, and he seems so sure. So gently confident in everything he’s saying. “We haven’t… _stopped _knowing each other. It’s just something we need to put effort into. To _try_ again. Like in any relationship. And I mean… I know we can. We’ve lasted this long, haven’t we?”

Nodding, Jaebeom leans forward, dipping his other hand into the box to hold both of Jinyoung’s hands in his. He doesn’t reply at first, needing Jinyoung’s words to sink in, just keeps leaning forward until he’s bowed over Jinyoung’s hands in his. Feeling almost scared of Jinyoung seeing his face, Jaebeom brings Jinyoung’s hands up, pressing his forehead against his knuckles and wishing he could be pressing his lips there instead. 

It feels like forgiveness again. Like all the times when Jaebeom was young and reckless, and it seemed like every other thing he did ruined his relationship with Jinyoung. And every time, Jinyoung allowed him back in. Every time Jaebeom pushed Jinyoung away, Jinyoung chased right after him. 

What Jinyoung said was true, reassuring and stabilizing. But Jaebeom thinks Jinyoung is letting him off too easy again. They both need to put in effort, but maybe Jaebeom needs to put in a little more. Maybe he needs to do some chasing for once.

“Do you want a hug?” Jinyoung says finally, sounding a little unimpressed that he has to ask, though his voice is thick with emotion.

Jaebeom nods, not raising his head from Jinyoung’s hands. After all the times Jinyoung has cried in front of him, and after all the times he’s comforted Jaebeom through his tears, something still feels shameful. 

Pushing the box aside awkwardly with his elbows, Jinyoung shuffles forward into its place, pulling their joined hands apart to press himself into Jaebeom’s space. Reluctantly, Jaebeom releases Jinyoung’s hands and melts into his shoulder instead, wrapping his arms around Jinyoung’s comfortingly familiar waist.

“Do you… does it make sense to you?” Jinyoung asks, and Jaebeom can feel him turning his head, trying to look into Jaebeom’s face. “What I said?”

“Yes,” Jaebeom says weakly, refusing to lift his head. “I think you’re right. I’m sorry I did this Jinyoung.”

“Hyung,” Jinyoung chides, and Jaebeom can hear the smile in his voice. “We’re here aren’t we? We’re fine. Like the rings. I lost them, and I thought everything was ruined. But I found them again.” 

“You _do _have a bad track record with losing rings,” Jaebeom mutters, cracking a small smile.

“I told you that simpsons ring was an _insult_ to my aesthetic sensibilities. Get me a nice ring and then we’ll see,” Jinyoung says, standing stiffly

He’d said it in such a throwaway tone, but Jaebeom can’t help but smile goofily as Jinyoung turns to assess the mountain of clothes on Jaebeom’s bed. _Get me a nice ring_, Jaebeom thinks dreamily. 

“Well get over here and help me, or you’ll have to sleep on a pile of your clothes” Jinyoung grumbles, not turning around.

“Then I’ll sleep in your bed,” Jaebeom teases as he stands to help. 

But after getting ready to sleep, they end up lingering in Jaebeom’s room and on his bed, Jinyoung’s head resting on Jaebeom’s lap while he checks his phone. With Nora still at the boarder’s, the apartment seems unusually empty. Now that he knows how Jinyoung feels, Jaebeom’s heart sinks at the thought. 

Curled up in his overlarge pajamas and exhausted, Jinyoung looks so vulnerable that Jaebeom hates himself a little for almost wounding him so deeply. Would he have been lonely, after Jaebeom moved out? It seems to be a struggle for Jinyoung to open his eyes again after every blink, and Jaebeom tosses his phone aside on the bed to run a hand carefully over Jinyoung’s hair.

“Jinyoung…” Jaebeom starts, keeping his voice low in the dim room, “just before you sleep, I have something to tell you.”

Eyelids closed and breathing slow, Jinyoung seems mostly unresponsive, so Jaebeom risks it. “One of… one of the main reasons I didn’t want to marry Nayeon was because I’m… I think I’m in love with someone else.”

Like a shot, Jinyoung’s eyes are open and alert, glinting almost fearful, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He twists in Jaebeom’s lap to look directly up at him. “_What?_ Who?”

Startled by Jinyoung’s sudden interest, Jaebeom hedges, tucking his chin into his t-shirt and petting Jinyoung’s hair a few more times. “Just… someone.”

“And you didn’t tell me that either?” Jinyoung asks, although he doesn’t sound too hurt. Not yet.

“Once I tell you who, you’ll understand why I didn’t tell you right away.”

Blinking his round eyes a few times, completely awake now, Jinyoung takes a deep breath and asks, “Do I know this person?”

There’s no going back now.

“Yes.”

“It’s not Mina?”

“What?!” Jaebeom makes a face down at Jinyoung, trying to communicate his complete bewilderment “No!”

“...Jennie…?”

“It’s not one of Nayeon’s friends Jinyoung,” Jaebeom says with a sigh, realizing the guessing game is probably a bad route to go down. “Look it’s… you’re going in the wrong… direction.”

“I’m…? Oh.” Jinyoung sits up and Jaebeom lets his hand slip away from Jinyoung’s hair. Turning to face Jaebeom, Jinyoung fixes him with a serious stare. “Hyung, is it a man?”

“...yes.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” Jinyoung asks carefully, eyes sharp with understanding.

“Partly. I… I only realized recently. Really recently. I do… think it’s important I tell you though, I’m just nervous.”

“You only just realized… that you’re in _love _with someone?” Jinyoung takes a shuddering breath before looking up and offering Jaebeom another familiar tight half-smile. Despite his stiff facial expression, Jinyoung’s gaze is soft and encouraging. “Do they… does _he_ feel the same way?”

“I don’t know. I know he cares about me,” Jaebeom says, meeting Jinyoung’s gaze evenly, “a lot. 

“Are you going to tell him your feelings?”

“I’m telling him now.”

Jinyoung blinks, face blank, before realization dawns in his eyes. Murky doubt and confusion follow when Jaebeom doesn’t elaborate, and Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrow upwards in worry. 

“Hyung…?”

“It’s you Jinyoung.”

“That you… love?” Jinyoung asks, voice small.

“I think… I _know_. I…” Jaebeom takes a breath to break up the weighty sentence, “…love you. And this is hardly the first time I’ve said it, but I don’t think I really realized how much it meant. Like, to what degree. In what… in what way. I only realized recently, like I said. But it always meant the same thing though, when I said it before. I think I always loved you like this. I just didn’t know it.”

There’s a heavy silence as Jinyoung processes, his eyes drifting across the bedsheets. Jaebeom knows that if worst comes to worst, Jinyoung will let him down gently, and he can take it day-by-day from there. But some instinct keeps Jaebeom’s hope alive. 

“Are you… sure?” Jinyoung asks quietly, suddenly looking boyish and uncertain himself as he meets Jaebeom’s gaze.

Jaebeom blinks in confusion. “Am I sure? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just…” Jinyoung starts breathlessly, “so many things are happening at once. You quitting your job, calling off the wedding…”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom says fondly, breaking out into a small smile, “I’m not having some kind of midlife crisis here.” Hesitantly, he reaches out to take Jinyoung’s hand in his, heart leaping when Jinyoung allows it easily, eagerly even. “The wedding is what pushed me to understand my feelings. I think maybe I took for granted that we would always be together. Just the thought of our life together coming apart made me miserable. I know my feelings now. Trust me.”

In the dim light, Jinyoung’s eyes gleam, but stay fixed desperately on Jaebeom’s face like he can’t look away.

“Ah, Jinyoung… I feel like lately I’ve only been making you cry.” Jaebeom takes a breath, trying to brace for rejection. “I… I honestly don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, but I couldn’t hide it. Just being able to stay with you a little longer is enough. I don’t want to give up this life with you, not yet. I don’t need anything more.”

Finally Jinyoung breaks eye contact, dipping his head down as his tears only seem to fall faster, dripping onto his forearms where they reach out to hold Jaebeom’s hand. He sniffles and gasps in a breath, red in the face from trying to keep quiet. When he speaks his voice is rough and unsteady. “But do you _want _more?”

“I… yeah. I do.”

Jinyoung lurches forward onto his knees, throwing his arms around Jaebeom’s shoulders and burying his face into Jaebeom’s neck. Quickly Jaebeom feels the drip of tears down his collar, but he wraps his arms steadily around Jinyoung’s waist.

“Jinyoung what’s wrong?” Jaebeom asks, turning his head to try to peek at Jinyoung’s face.

“I do too,” Jinyoung says, voice thick.

Jaebeom’s heart leaps with hope in his chest.

“I want more, I want anything you’ll give me,” Jinyoung mumbles into Jaebeom’s shoulder. “I want everything with you. You’re really sure?”

“I know my feelings Jinyoung, finally. I do love you.” Jaebeom’s heart swells with every meaning behind those words, finally fully realized. Saying it so confidently to Jinyoung feels like soaring. “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable to hear, because it feels really nice saying it aloud.”

“Oh hyung,” Jinyoung pulls back, a fresh wave of tears glistening on his round cheeks, “it doesn’t make me uncomfortable… I love you too.”

It seems unbelievable and obvious all at once to Jaebeom. He sees the truth of it in Jinyoung’s eyes, and in his actions.

“I have for a long time,” Jinyoung says quietly.

“You…? All this time?” Jaebeom thinks of everything that’s happened, how miserable Jinyoung must have felt. It seems so obvious, _too_ obvious now that he knows. All Jinyoung’s odd moods and strange decisions. “And you knew? That you felt this way?”

“Obviously!” Jinyoung grouses, blowing his nose neatly. “I’ve always been more emotionally intelligent than you!”

“Did you know that I felt… the same?”

“No.” Jinyoung fussily dusts imaginary lint off Jaebeom’s shoulder. “You think I was going to let you marry Nayeon if I knew that?”

“Ah… _that’s _why you didn’t want me to get married?” Jaebeom asks, pulling Jinyoung closer again, making him sink down on his knees until they’re face-to-face, legs knocked together.

Jinyoung nods, tipping his head down shamefully.

Hesitantly, Jaebeom reaches a hand up to Jinyoung’s jaw. But he doesn’t flinch away, so with more confidence, Jaebeom cups Jinyoung’s cheek, tilting his head back so their eyes can meet again. 

“I’m sorry you had to hide all this from me,” Jaebeom says softly, moving his face closer until the tip of his nose brushes Jinyoung’s. “This is what you meant? Hiding feelings from me?”

Jinyoung nods again, but this time he doesn’t look away from Jaebeom’s gentle gaze.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. …Can I…” Jaebeom’s voice suddenly feels too loud in the dimly lit room. “Would you like to kiss?”

“I always thought you’d be more suave in such situations Jaebeom,” Jinyoung teases, face lighting up in a sweet smile. With his thumb, Jaebeom brushes the familiar whiskers scrunched under Jinyoung’s eyes. 

Rather than argue, Jaebeom pulls Jinyoung closer still, and kisses him soundly. Quickly Jaebeom pulls back, unable to hide his smug smile at Jinyoung’s dazed pout. Before the pout can worsen, Jaebeom kisses him again, longer this time, reveling in the softness of Jinyoung’s cheek beneath his palm, the softness of his lips beneath Jaebeom’s. With a startled breath, Jinyoung melts into him, hands firm against Jaebeom’s shoulders. 

Jinyoung does not deepen it, the wet pluck of their lips quiet and sleepy, and eventually he pulls away almost shyly. Letting his hand drop from Jinyoung’s cheek to cradle the side of his neck, Jaebeom finds himself admiring Jinyoung’s face openly. How different it feels now. Jinyoung has always been handsome, Jaebeom thinks, but now he can look upon him unabashedly.

“Well,” Jinyoung says briskly, although his cool attitude is ruined by his pink face and wet eyes, “aren’t you going to ask me on a date or something?”

Jaebeom remembers thinking how wrong it would feel to ask Jinyoung out on a date, like strangers who haven’t spent half their lives together. But he finds now, it doesn’t feel wrong at all. It’s a little thrilling, opening this new door and discovering a whole new vibrant world to explore.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom says, drawing himself up. He imagines them as acquaintances, maybe two low level office workers, or two university students studying in the same coffee shop, shyly taking a step towards dating together. “Would you join me for dinner tomorrow? Like a date.”

“We have to pick up Nora from the boarder’s tomorrow,” Jinyoung reminds him, shattering the illusion of two acquaintances making a foray into romance.

Throwing his head back, Jaebeom laughs, prompting Jinyoung to join, face scrunched in bemused laughter. 

“Well, we do!” Jinyoung protests, still smiling.

“You know,” Jaebeom says when he’s stopped laughing, “remember what you were saying about how intense I get when I’m interested in someone?”

“Yes…?” Jinyoung is looking sleepy again, lying down beside Jaebeom.

“It made me think of how much I do that with you. How my sketchbooks must be eighty percent you. And Nora of course. That’s how I know these feelings aren’t recent. Looking back, it was always you.”

When Jinyoung doesn’t respond, Jaebeom glances over, catching the tail end of a slow nod and yawn.

“Good night Jinyoung,” Jaebeom whispers, feeling like each ordinary word hides a secret affection. Not so secret now, as he leans over to kiss Jinyoung’s temple.

“Mm,” Jinyoung offers in return, and Jaebeom can’t help the cheek-splitting grin that comes over his face, the full feeling in his chest.

Trying not to jostle Jinyoung, Jaebeom lies down beside him and turns off the tiny reading lamp by his bed. In the darkness, Jaebeom stares at the space where Jinyoung’s face is until his eyes adjust and he can see it. Such a familiar sight, Jinyoung’s sleeping face, pretty eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, squished up on one side by the pillow. In the morning, Jaebeom knows what to expect too, ruffled hair and scruffy chin, belly exposed by nighttime fidgeting.

Every familiar part of Jinyoung and their relationship, Jaebeom wants to explore again, and he knows they will find new parts now too. Perhaps all this time it wasn’t change he was afraid of. Pulling the blanket over them both, Jaebeom is eager for the next morning with Jinyoung, the next weeks, months, years. Change he can face, Jaebeom thinks, so long as Jinyoung is by his side.

And Nora, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for reading!! I hope this ending and the story as a whole was satisfactory!


End file.
